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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2023 22:15:19 GMT
It had not gone over Mufara's chubby little head that her "father" was different than the other dogs. As soon as she had realized that she had a connection with the big black canna, she had begun to watch him intently. She didn't understand everything that he said or did, but the way others held themselves around him made him seem so important. When he barked, the clan listened. Mufara had taken it upon herself to practice Greyo'mira's skills among her brothers and sisters with...mixed results. Sometimes they turned a deaf ear to her commands. Other times they listened right away. This pleased the pup to no end. It made her want to learn more, do more like her great and powerful father.
Today, she was practicing the chief's "walk." She trotted through the great greenhouse like a tiny mirror of the bigger dog, head held high, chin held higher. Or..so she thought. Little did she know that she looked more like a fat black duck than any relative of Damien, save her dark fur. Still, the very act of her strut made her feel like she owned the whole world. And of course it did! Whatever belonged to Mother belonged to Mufara too, so that meant that Father shared as well, right? That meant that she could boss everyone around just like the chief.
At length, she reached a doorway that just happened to have a big dog sitting right in her way. She could smell sweet flowers somewhere behind the big dog. The pup stopped a few strides away from the grown-up, craned her head back to see their face, and gave her orders. Short and sweet.
"Move."
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Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2023 5:02:20 GMT
Gru'e Canna'a was far from a patient canine. His demeanor was gruff and commandeering with a hint of stoicism in his quiet fortitude. There was a mysticism around his existence that he heavily leaned into. After all, he was the rumblier'gru. The speaker to shadows. The shepherd had heard whispers that some of the younger or newer canna to the clan had begun to spread stories on how, should they cross the shadowspeaker, he would curse them into fits of ralfing or set them to be covered in kitch. There was some truth to this, though it was not curses. Should a canna not heed Gru'e's advice they may find themselves stricken by unfortunate circumstances. Typically this was caused by them not following his instruction on how to take a medicinal plant. Many canna resorted to gulping down the herbs when plenty of foliage needed to be applied externally - some even proving poisonous if ingested. But he appreciated the rumors, nonetheless.
The snow pelted healer found himself seated outside of the stock room that housed the clan's most prized growth - the shilah'mira. The nubs of where his ears once lay atop his head twitched as they picked up the patter of fumbling, short steps approaching. Dropping his gaze he noted the mini Greyo look-a-like waddling towards him in all her puppyish grace - or lack thereof. He rolled his eyes at the strutting ren. The chief's brood was bad enough when they had been crying for days on end in their nest, but now that they were constantly out and about he was truly feeling the beginnings of losing his mind. Akoda must have been out of her mind to pass on Damien's bloodline. Oh well, they were easy enough to ignore. For now.
"Move," the tiny voice commanded.
A sneer pulled at the elder's lips at her demanding tone. The absolute nerve of this pup. Waltzing around the base as if she held some sort of rank. He again lowered his gaze to meet hers, looking her squarely in her small, dark face.
"No," he stated plainly, his voice calm but booming in a baritone. He accentuated his words by reaching his front leg out and nudging her with a massive, white paw. He showed no physical indication of it, but he derived a sort of sick pleasure from bullying the miniature version of his chief.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 20, 2023 3:17:16 GMT
"No."
Before Mufara'kah could take the time to process this quite unexpected answer, a big white paw was extended to shove her right off of her feet. She didn't have nearly enough strength (or preparation) to fight back. There was a moment of surprised, flailing panic as she tried to maintain her balance, but it was all for nothing. The little black pup was quickly tipped onto her back on the pavement. Fat little paws flapped wildly around in the air for a few comical seconds, but in the end she was able to turn herself over.
The young canna stumbled to her feet, paws braced for a fight. She glared all the way up at Gru'e's face with seething anger burning in her beady little eyes. Her lip was stuck out in a hard pout, but she wasn't about to cry. No, there was no need to fight back sad tears. She was plain and simply just mad. And quite a sight to behold! A tiny black fluffball, covered now in dirt and debris from the dusty old floors, staring angrily up at a mean-spirited old dog a hundred times her own size.
And then, without considering what she might be doing, Mufara put her head down and charged, intending to race right past the Shadowspeaker and into that forbidden room that he was guarding. That would show him. And when she'd finally gotten a good look at all the stuff in there, she'd come back out, and she'd bite him. And then she'd go and tell her father all about what happened. And her mother too! Gru'e would be sorry all the way around for shoving her over.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2023 17:21:14 GMT
His sneer accentuated at the pup's audacity as she rose back to her feet and gave a belligerent look. How disrespectful this generation was! And no wonder with their parentage being as it were. As she dropped her head, taking an offensive stance, the elder male pulled back his lips in a snarl, showing her his fangs that measured to nearly fifty percent of her own body, and tensed his muscles in preparation for the assault. He was not like the ren's adoptive mother, Tatu. He would not go soft on her just because of her size and age. Even pata needed to learn their place and how to behave. If that resulted in a well-deserved concussion then so be it.
As she charged he was only briefly surprised by her turning to avoid him. So her goal was solely to enter the room that held the shilah'mira cache. Smart, he mulled. At least this one knew she couldn't take a dog this much larger than herself in a head-on brawl. However, the shepherd remained unamused. Nearly leaping to his feet he reached out to swipe at the little black bullet and send her toppling back. His expression was serious and his teeth remained bared as he spoke.
"Nu kef, u rouf!" he growled, as he stood full-bodied in the doorway. He cringed only slightly at the thought of what Li'Greyo's reaction may have been to seeing one of his brood being assaulted as such. Would he have cared? Or would he have applauded Gru'e for his diligence in his job and putting the pups in their place? Hopefully, Gru'e would never have to find out. He had - mostly - made sure of that.
His attention returned to the disrespectful ren. "You will not be entering this room and destroying my herbs!" The inflection on his claim upon the plants within was unintentional, yet also expected. It was not unknown that the shadowspeaker took his job and his "tools" very seriously. He held his tail high as he lowered his head to get directly in her little, dark face. "Now waddle on back home to Tatu and the rest of your pata, aba'ren." His voice had cooled but the lingering growl remained in his words. The hair along his spine stood on end in an indication of utter seriousness. He did not fear this pup, thus he felt comfortable getting directly face to face with her.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2023 5:00:03 GMT
Mufara'kah almost made it past the big brute. Almost. For a second it even looked like he might jump out of the way and let her pass. But then a giant paw appeared in front of the pup and she collided with it so hard that it very nearly knocked the wind from her lungs. With a grunt, the little pup was once again shoved backwards. This time she landed on her side and slid a ways. She didn't immediately rise this time either, save for propping herself up on two stout front legs.
The ren would have turned her muzzle upwards to glare at the bigger dog, but she didn't have to. He delivered himself right down to her level so that she could stare angrily down his big ugly nostrils.
"I'm not a rouf." She growled back ferociously, flashing her tiny, sharp fangs right back at the bigger dog. And then she opened her jaws, intending to announce herself as important, the daughter of the chief...in so many words, anyway.
What burst out instead was the very essence of youth - An unpleasant something that probably rendered all of her brave acts completely worthless in comparison. It would turn out that the Shadowspeaker's closeness combined with the sharp, tickling scent of herbs and pollens clinging to his fur were a little too much for the young pup's senses to handle.
Without a shred of warning, and certainly not on purpose, her muzzle exploded into a very loud, very wet sneeze. Boogery spray flew from her sinus in a great cone, surely blasting everything within range. It was a sneeze for the record books...and even left a little residual drip dangling from both nostrils when it was all done.
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WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO,
BLOCK OUT THE SUN?
I CAN DO THAT, BUT I DON'T HAVE TIME RIGHT NOW.
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