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Posted: Fri Feb 17, 2017 2:08 am
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Winter. Cold, awful, mis-er-a-ble winter, with humid weather and trees that blocked the sunlight even with their leaves down and piles of snow and awful muck and damp and no good food to make it worth it winter. Sea of Butterflies had long-since sickened of this season. He'd tried to leave at one point, before being helpfully told that he had made a thankless, one-way trip and condemned himself, his beautiful puppy, and his perfect, wonderful vision of a sister to this purgatory.
He'd holed up in the first thing that looked like a semi-public but still dry alcove, and there he sat, unbudged, wishing for the days to pass faster as his pup idly groomed at his side. Nothing, he felt, would cheer him up.
Nothing!
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Posted: Fri Feb 17, 2017 6:25 pm
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Fish Bones had been lulled into believing winter was over. But the weather turned cold again, and he hoped not for too long. Spring means warmth returning, and bird's eggs. Especially the eggs. He missed them. He should plan a trip to that tribe that trades foods, and pick up some eggs. If he was lucky, they'd be willing to part with a full basket of them.
He's so distracted by his thoughts, he doesn't see the acha in the cave he hops into. He's almost nose to nose with the dog before realizing the cave isn't empty. Not a very safe thing, given his current appearance. Helfer flipping, half hopping, he turns and backs up a bit, and takes another look. Well, at least the dog isn't wild. Good evening. he greets the pair.
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Posted: Fri Feb 17, 2017 6:54 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 17, 2017 9:28 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 12:38 pm
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Once again, Sea of Butterflies found himself with the curious sensation of realizing what the buck had said without recalling having heard him actually physically say anything to him. The acha turned slightly, and gave a small, gusty sigh.
"I'll survive," he said. "I'm just not used to this interminable damp. I'm used to dry, dry, dry, punctuated with downpours sometimes more than a year apart. Freezing nights, and burning days. Not this... ucky, mucky, awful damp cold. Not snow." The reality of the swamp was a tough meal to swallow for the acha.
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Posted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 3:31 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 4:28 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 18, 2017 5:16 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 20, 2017 2:11 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 20, 2017 2:23 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 20, 2017 2:47 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 20, 2017 8:35 pm
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At first there was a foxbun... and then, in no time at all, there was a buck. The acha reared back a little before giving a small laugh! What a trick that was, if a less complex, involved, or time-consuming one than he would have hoped.
"Sounds like a skull might be difficult to find. I wouldn't know where to get one," he said, considering.
The other option, though....
"Well, I do want kids," he said, slightly emboldened by the idea. "Does that count for anything? Is that enough?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2017 10:55 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 23, 2017 6:19 pm
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The buck thought for a few moments, choosing his words before he spoke. "Well, drought was hard on mothers and babies in the desert. And sometimes, if she didn't have enough water when she was pregnant, the eggs wouldn't... thrive. They wouldn't even hatch." Quite the grim topic, but he'd been asked of his worries!
"I expect there's unique problems here, too, that impact the wellbeing of babies. So, I mean, as long as they're healthy, everything else is really just luck and personality, right? I want lots, I don't want to lose any, and I want them to be healthy and happy! And I can work on the happy."
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