Morning of Ashan 15th, Arc 722
Woe was ready for a day of taking care of his animal, and training it up to standard. He wore a wrist-length and knee-length flaxen brown tunic. His breeches were of wool fabric with flaxen inner lining. They were loose-fitting and colored forest green, tucked into black leather shin-wraps. His feet were covered by some brown fur boots. Around his shoulders, a mantled sash of blue wrapped over his torso, cinched in place by a pewter broach in the shape of a hound.
They were, all five of them, situated in the middle of an abandoned plaza in Almund, one of the nicer districts, anyway. Larger manses and buildings ringed the plaza, and here people came to and fro, on their business of the day. Woe at least had confidence that he could avoid trouble, here if anywhere in Almund.
At this point in Woe's life, having accumulated an abundance of stray people and animals, he was beginning to feel a bit like a shepherd of all kinds. Yet for all the creatures, ghosts, spirits, people and animals he adopted, he knew little enough about caring for them. He'd hoped that Sage, with her knowledge of beasts of all kinds and how to tame them, would be of help in that area. And sure enough she was, but when it came to dealing with the other occupants of Woe's life, she was woefully shy and standoffish. Sage did seem more of a kind to prefer the company of beasts to people. Perhaps a residual consequence of having grown up among the naerikk of Augiery. He couldn't fault the young naer for that, understanding too well the cruelty of those women. Sage, however, was very much an exception to the rest of her kind. Perhaps why Kuvarakh and his brood had chosen her to find them in the depths of Augiery's caverns.
Nevertheless, he sought to put her to work now, finalizing the training that his dog would need to become a fully fledged and purpose-driven animal. Quacian Bloodhounds were renown for their scenting abiltiies, particularly when it came to people. He was a little strange with Sage, though, by virtue of her not having ordinary blood. He tended to get out of hand around her in point of fact, and so Woe was there, with Blodwen and Fleaface, to try to temper the hound's reaction to the shadows that ran in the naer's 'veins'.
Fleaface was there mainly because of his repoire with the dog, but also seemed to get on well enough with Blodwen.
Sage had gathered a few things that they'd need for the process. Some bonemeal biscuits that Gloom had cooked especially for this occasion, one of Botany's favorite treats. A few containers, with one of them containing the scent that they'd be sending him after. And finally, a dog whistle.
As Sage held the biscuits in her belt pouch, Botany seemed overly happy to see her, or rather to smell her, now more than usual. She cautiously smiled at the dog, but didn't reward his pawing at the pouch with attention. Woe sharply whistled (not with the dog whistle) through his lips, trying to fetch him off of Sage's case. "Botany, heel boy. Sit. There's a good dog."
Still, Botany whined as he could scent the bone biscuits just a few feet from his nose.
Sage looked up at Woe, apologetically, "I think you ought to handle this part, and I'll give you the biscuit, you introduce him to the containers."
Woe shrugged, and accepted the bone biscuit, which Botany saw, but didn't break away from Sage just yet.
He took up position at the containers, and called to Botany, "Here boy." He hid the biscuit behind his hand, to try and not distract the dog while he did his scent work. "Here, these..." The object of this exercise, of having the dog look at each container, was to reward him when he scented the one that held the one they were looking for. Sure enough, when Botany scented them, and drifted closer to the one that held the scent they wanted, he'd feed him the biscuit. Woe waited and watched, looking to see if he'd chose correctly.
After scent training, afternoon came. Woe parted ways with Sage, Fleaface, and Blodwen, and took Botany to the outskirts of Port Diablo, where rumor had it some skullgulls were expanding their territory. While there was no official call to cull their numbers, it seemed like good sport for Woe and an opportunity for training his dog. He wanted to see if he could turn the dog into a hunting companion. Woe wasn’t much of a hunter but was becoming a fair shot with the bolas. Skullgulls were pests, ever present in the area, and a constant nuisance to anyone who arrived at port.
Of all the birds in the sky, the Skullgulls had to be the very worst. Woe readied his set of six bolas, hanging them from the back of his belt as he arrived at the port. Botany trundled alongside him, all the way, sniffing at this and that and occasionally barking at this fisherman or that gull.
There was a beach, mostly deserted save for the detritus littering it, and the skull gulls sorting through the refuse. It was perhaps the perfect place to take aim at those pests. And in the doing, it’d be a good opportunity to reinforce Botany’s obedience.
He had a plan in mind here, to make Botany stay while he downed he Skullgulls, one after another. While Woe was aware of the flocks tendency to gang up on stragglers, he was well prepared to defend himself, carrying his blooded leather bullwhip which hung at his side.
Botany huffed into the wind, licking his chops at the smell of rot floating in from the skullgulls. Woe smiled gently down to him, and shrugged, reaching for one of the bolas. He began spinning it, as he'd learned in arcs past. Careful to regulate his swing, and heave the rotation back and forth over his head, he took aim at one of the creatures, which had just noticed him, and curiously hopped over, squawking angrily.
"Stay Botany." Woe said, and then let loose with his bola at that skullgull.
The bola's cords wound wildly in the air, its barbed ends whistling in the air as it sailed a few feet over the Skullgull, missing it narrowly.
Botany nearly bolted, Woe could see it in the tense in his haunches, the shuffle of his front feet. “Stay Botany. Good boy.” He offered him another treat, to placate the beast’s sense of predation. He knew well it wanted to give chase to the gull, but Woe hadn’t any wish of getting near to the Gulls, lest he catch a nasty disease. Woe would take on that risk himself. At least he knew how to care for his own sickness. But as for dogs? He was no veterinary expert.
Woe shrugged to himself, and cocked another bola in his throwing arm. That done, he began spinning, this time going a little faster with the spin, and a little shorter. Within the space of a few trills, he let loose, adjusting for the difference in elevation from the last throw, and the different distance, as he was aiming at a different skullgull this time.
This time he hit, and the bola wrapped well around the gull, instantly ending the misery of its rotting existence. Botany bolted up from his hind quarters, but Woe called him back in time. “Stay Botany, heel!”
Footsteps approached from behind him. Woe recognized their rhythm as familiar around his house of late. It was Blodwen, he thought, if anyone he knew.
He turned around and sure enough confirmed it. She looked quite amused by Woe’s preoccupation. “Are you really that hungry, Morandi?” She asked, leaning on one foot and crossing her arms with a malicious grin.
Nevertheless, Woe found her attitude charming. “Careful girl. I might send you to fetch the leavings.” He returned her grin. “But no. I was just leaving. Go ahead to the Sapphire. I’ll be there shortly…”
So saying, he turned on his heel, to gather up his bolas where they’d fallen. Where one had wrapped up around a skull gull, he removed it with the edge of his sword scabbard, after pulling it out of his belt. He carefully held it at arms length, and then deposited it in his domain bag, which he held out with the other hand.
Soon enough, he and Botany would be back at the Sapphire. There was still much business to go over in Almund over the next few days, and Woe intended to make the most of all of that time.
Template by Natalia Gregorios
