Daughter-Father bonding... what the fuck?

continued from this thread with Cupid <3 | late morning!

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She'd arrived to the Run before her father, and while she wasn't too happy with that, she was fine with examining the stone and rocks and drinking in the scents and figuring out all the things; doe there, rabbit there, mountain goat there, their hunting grounds were so plentiful, it was barely funny. Nonetheless, she turned as her fathers' smell drew closer, and she wrinkled her nose. “You could use a bath, you know!” She called, a jestlerly grin decorating her face. “That was a joke, by the way! Please don't take away my second strike!” Oopsies.

She waited for his reaction, muscles tensed as her ears remained straight out, unsure whether to be happy, sad, or frightened of the pale-fawn man stood in front of her. She gazed at him expectantly, almost as if she was waiting to be eaten alive for the little joke she'd made. She didn't want... to get yelled at, though she doubted her father would ever really snap at her unless she'd somehow managed to... well, she didn't know. Set the world on fire, or something? Hm.

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“You could use a bath, you know!” Cupid groaned, worried about the very simple fact that Droplet was very likely to scare away all the prey if she went on like this; perhaps she'd scare away her next strike, too. Oh, wait, nope, she'd already shouted about that, as well. He sighed, rolling his eyes. “That was a joke, by the way! Please don't take away my second strike!” “Quiet down, Droplet,” Cupid growled, nose flicking up and down as he came upon a scent.

“Do you know what that smell is?” He asked. As she answered, Cupid would nod. “Yep, Mountain Goat, one of your dads favourites.” Whenever he said "your dad," he was always referring to himself in third person, and no matter how odd it may be, it was just... a quirk of him. Something funnily irreversible, he thought, as he continued to scent the ground.

What a-- “'bout you, Droplet? Do you have a fave?” He asked, thoughts blending prettily into spoken words. He tilted his head, before continuing. “Gargh, where is this bastard?!” He angrily whispered to himself, pushing forwards against the scent. Where was it coming from, though? Why was that so hard to figure out? Damnnit. His eyes occasionally returned to his daughter as she spoke, and he'd merely nod.

Yep, that's great, hun.

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“Do you know what that smell is?” “Mountain Goat,” She answered in a whisper, merely a few heartbeats after her father had asked the question. “Yep, Mountain Goat, one of your dads favourites.” Ooooh, one of dad's favourites? Hm, maybe she could bring him some goat meat whenever he was upset; that'd surely make him feel better, right? She'd like to think so, but nonetheless, she'd listen. He had a few questions for her, huh? “'bout you, Droplet? Do you have a fave?” She shrugged mindlessly. No, not really.

“Nothing really,” She said. “But I do like rabbits; they're small, give a good chase, and relatively easy to catch once you're close enough to spring, so... at least from what I've seen, I mean...” She hummed, though she noticed that her father, ah, wasn't really paying attention, and her eyes began to wander as her mouth drooped closed. Though her father was struggling with locating the prey, Droplet believed she found it almost immediately. “Is that it there, dad?” She asked, motioning towards the goat with the tip of her tail. She'd guess it was, it certainly looked it!

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Droplet had found the goat immediately, and Cupid felt like a blind idiot for not noticing it sooner. He nodded at his daughter with a silent smile before working his way silently towards the majestic creature. It's' perfectly curved horns, with that fluffy – no, woolly? – pelt brought Cupid to a feeling of envy. Perhaps once he took down the meal, he could take some of its wool and offer it to his packmates as a material to line their nests with. He smiled.

“Quiet, now,” He warned. “One wrong move, or one word whispered too loudly, can easily determine the fate of a hunt. Stay a few ways back, okay? Goats can be dangerous, and I doubt I'll be able to take it down on my own... unless...” As he spoke, he'd noticed a large, gaping wound within the fur, from which it was obvious that there was probably a small group of loners – perhaps two or three – trying to take down this same goat, before probably being warded of the territory. Hm... He'd grow closer, taking a look at the wound; it took up part of the throat, spreading across to the right shoulder as he took a look.

Cupid's mouth gaped open. “Goodness...” He sighed, though his rumbling stomach disagreed with him.

Would it be worth it to leap?



Unfortunately, Carl decided yes.

So, with his claws outstretched and his teeth gnashing and gnawing, Cupid would leap, teeth piercing the barely-healed-over wound and causing blood to immediately seep. Cupid let out a brief growl, looking back to his daughter and ensuring that she stayed there. This game was probably too large for her. He didn't want her getting hurt.

Really, anything but his baby getting hurt would do. Not Mythic, Mars or Droplet, they'd only be allowed to get hurt by the time that wolves stopped existing, so, probably never. He just wanted his whelps to be safe, which is why he sought refuge in a pack that's probably one of the farthest from the desert as possible. Never would he let Satan find them. He doubted he'd be good with kids. Unless... he wanted to be a part of their lives. Cupid could try to make it work-- no, no, what was he thinking? Satan fucked him and then left him for dead, no real care for him, huh?

Anyways. The hunt. Yes. He sunk his teeth in further, before flicking his tail and jumping off, making chase as the goat tried to run. Only now would he let Droplet get close, though he'd have to advise her not to get too close to their hooves; any ungulates hooves were purely the most dangerous weapons in the world, besides fangs, however. He looked back every now and then to ensure his whelp was still following.

Stay close, Droplet.

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Droplet would watch the way her father stalked the prey eagerly, taking note of a large wound spread across its front quarters after he spoke; “Quiet, now,” He begun. “One wrong move, or one word whispered too loudly, can easily determine the fate of a hunt. Stay a few ways back, okay? Goats can be dangerous, and I doubt I'll be able to take it down on my own... unless...” Droplet quirked a brow; unless? What was that supposed to mean? She huffed, though, and took a few steps back as he drew closer. She watched closely, ears perking to hear the soft “Goodness...” that he gave, nearing closer...

Until he leaped, claws and teeth and all of his natural weapons flying every which-way direction, and Droplet longed to be able to do something like that; to be able to be a warrior and make her people proud, and to hunt and feed those who truly needed it. She watched intently, practically sitting on the front of her seat before they began moving, which was when Droplet began to follow after them. Her father had detached, and Droplet put on the speed, following in a sprint as she two would jump forwards, inexperienced fangs snapping around wildly, though latching on to nothing. “Damn it!” She cursed, watching how her father moved with such simple strides-- he made it look so easy.

She wanted to be like that, truly, but she didn't know if she'd ever be able to, and that's what scared her. What if she was just a disappointment her entire life? What if she simply didn't do well enough, and remained 'average' instead of 'significantly better than everybody else at everything else'? What would become of her-- and while she was questioning her life, and odd sight was unfolding before her; the goat had its eyes closed... and was running right towards the cliffs face was, where it would fall to its death, and--

Holy hell.

She watched as it stumbled down the rock face, refusing to watch its body break with each pummel to the jagged stone. It would still make a good meal, though, so she turned to her father with a quirked brow. “Are we gonna go down there and eat it?” She asked, tone sensible in the fact that it'd be silly to waste such a meal. Her father's reaction-- partially horrified, and most certainly traumatised-- had not changed at all in these past few seconds, not even a single twitch. Droplet murmured uneasily.

“It could... be worse, I think.” She offered.

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He'd been chasing it, giving a few snaps and nips and a low affectionate chuff when Droplet cursed for not being able to reach just yet (“Damn it!”), but when the goat squeezed its eyes shut and plummeted over the precipice, Cupid felt like he was going to throw up. He watched as the body grew colder and colder with each stab, twisting and contorting around the jagged rock as scarlet splattered around the cliff. Luckily, Droplet didn't seem too keen to watch.

Until she asked “Are we gonna go down there and eat it?” Holy fuck, uh, Cupid caught himself for a second, since he was trying his best to not swear in front of his small whelps. They were young and impressionable! He needed to learn how to be a good enough father, and how to properly take care of them, and he was fairly certain that the number one rule of taking care of children was feeding them, so... With a sigh, he shrugged, and nodded. “Sure, you lead the way, I'll watch you, okay? Who knows what sort of eagles could be out here, waiting to gobble you up,” He mimicked the act of being a raptor from the sky, mocking loud caws before making a 'gobbling sound'. Ah, kids.

“Why do you still... want to eat it, after what happened to it, Droplet?” Cupid asked out of the blue, ensuring there was no silence in their christian minecraft server. He gave the child a pointed look, and nodded when she answered, merely curious, though... maybe a little accusatory? Perhaps, though he liked to think otherwise. “It could... be worse, I think.” The girl offered, and Cupid chuckled. “Oh, really now? You think that our dinner falling over the edge of a cliff was any good, and that it could've been worse? Huh, wow, sure,” He jokingly snickered, teasing the child playfully. “Jokes, jokes...”

The sire have her another look, though. “How could've it been worse, Droplet? Personally I like to hunt my food, not go retrieve it from a base of a cliff, but I suppose this way is easier for anyone who... well, I don't know, can't properly hunt on their own? I think that goat was a little weird.” He wondered what their packmates would've said if they were here. Cupid wrinkled his nose as the scent of blood and guts and gore drew him closer. Cupid didn't really think he wanted his little four-month-old-puppy getting too close to the corpse. “Careful, not too close, it might steal your feet and take your ears! You know that's what ghosts and corpses do, right?” Because he'd fuckin' make her know!

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They were headed down there now, with Droplet in the lead as she gently trotted down the stone, finding the easiest paths possible to safely bring them down. “Why do you still... want to eat it, after what happened to it, Droplet?” The way her father used her name made her shiver, like he thought she was some sort of mind-breaking psychopath who liked to see others in pain (only bugs). She shrugged. “Don't wanna be wasteful, y'know?” The girl offered. “Don't wanna draw in any other people either, since food is food and anyone'll probably take what they can get their grubby little mitts on, don't you think?”

“How could've it been worse, Droplet? Personally I like to hunt my food, not go retrieve it from a base of a cliff, but I suppose this way is easier for anyone who... well, I don't know, can't properly hunt on their own? I think that goat was a little weird.” Droplet looked up at him with disdain, squinting her eyes as they walked and she turned her attention back to the path ahead of them. She - again - shrugged, tail curling uncomfortably as they went along. “I don't know, I was trying to be nice, why do you keep saying my name?” The girl turned to look at him. “What are you trying to say about me, dad?” Because, quite frankly, it really fucking hurt.

“You know what?” She asked after he'd finished going on about how corpses and ghosts did all this and that blah-blah-blah. She turned to face him, and shouldered past him, bunching up as she leapt to the higher platform of rock that would lead back to the Summit, she knew. “You're being weird, and I'm going to go home. Thanks for bringing me out here, dad. I'm not that hungry.” And with that, she turned, and left, tail swaying as she walked in the direction of the pack, ready to go annoy Mars and Mythic about the fact that she went out without the rest of them. Ha.

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Exit Droplet

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“Don't wanna be wasteful, y'know? Don't wanna draw in any other people either, since food is food and anyone'll probably take what they can get their grubby little mitts on, don't you think?” Cupid shrugged; yeah, he supposed his daughter was right, but nonetheless he still found it even the littlest bit odd, though he'd do his best to listen and understand the little pale child. Her tail curled as they went, and Cupid felt partially guilty. “I don't know, I was trying to be nice, why do you keep saying my name?” “Droplet, I--” “What are you trying to say about me, dad?” He took a shallow breath, quickly shaking his his. “No, it's not like that, Droplet--”

“You know what?” Fuck, fuck, fuck, he should of just kept his mouth shut instead of assuming the worst. He took a breath as his daughter shouldered past him, and the sire did nothing to stop her. What a pathetic father he was, just letting his children boss him around with such fucking ease. The man sighed. “You're being weird, and I'm going to go home. Thanks for bringing me out here, dad. I'm not that hungry.” And... she left. Tears threatened to bubble over his cheeks, but he kept going down anyways, scaling down the rock much faster now as he'd locate the goat. His heart... hurt. “Fuck...”

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Exit Cupid

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