Garth was tired.
He’d been tired for a solid while now.
As the old lupine reclined alongside his similarly exhausted wife, he couldn’t help but ponder just how enervating peace was. Ever since that rat-shit cult had gotten his wife exiled, he’d been filled with a near-constant nervous energy, waiting on tenterhooks for the calm before the storm to break. Now though, the storm had passed, and he could finally be tired. With a contented sigh, he let his muscles loosen. The storm was far behind them now. He smiled. His wife was back, Tollus had had his head caved in by Hela and his son wasn’t going to get his idiot self killed. Everything was right in the world.
Then, he heard an inquisitive snuffle. Garth’s smile became more rueful.
Ah yes. The reason I’m so tired.
The snuffling grew louder, multiple noses pushing up against the two exhausted lupines. Garth and Gweyr groaned.
Being grandparents wasn’t anything new, they’d gotten used to that before she had even turned up. Even so, that every single one of his daughters would shack up with the same person was…
An insistent, multi-throated whine stabbed at the old dogs’ hearts. The little ones were dangerously good at activating the pair’s doting instincts. With a sigh, Garth and Gweyr opened their eyes.
The tavern floor was fluffier, more multi-coloured, and significantly more wide-eyed than it had been mere moments ago. A horde of lupines, half-orcs and tanukis was staring hopefully up at the elder couple.
They didn’t even get a chance to speak. With a combined yap, giggle and bark, his grandchildren were upon them. A yelp of surprise managed to slip free of the old wolf’s mouth as his world became a writhing mass of excitable fur of countless hues, as his grandchildren nipped and bit and rolled over every part of him and Gweyr they could get ahold of…and apparently they were feeling particularly agile today, as a great weight suddenly bit into his ear, if he’d given himself a boulder piercing. Beside him, felt more than heard, the rumbling coo of his wife, assailed by the horde. This couldn’t last forever. Only Lumia or Sorra had enough energy to keep up with the little ones.
By sheer force of will, Garth managed to at least extricate his head from the mass of babbling children, even if it meant he ended up with inquisitive paws and energetic orcpups batting at his cheeks and nose. His wife too, with a herculean effort, pulled herself free, one of the tiny Senjalings squealing and clutching happily to her hair for dear life. They needed help.
“Mom, Old Man, where’re you at?!” a voice barked from the front of the tavern.
For a moment, they froze. Then Garth smirked. When he saw his wife’s eyes alight with amused malice, that smirk became a full-blown and very conniving chuckle. Gweyr leant down, into the fluffy tide as they wiggled excitedly, her voice conspiratorial.
“Who wants to surprise Uncle Garret?”
The yips, squeals, ‘awoos’ and all-round hyperactive wiggling said it all. In an instant, the tide went bounding off.
Garth couldn’t help but bark with laughter when he heard his son murmur “…Oh fuck.”
Muscular Garret might be, but against an incoming wave of hyperactive children, that meant about as much as his boasting. With a great thud, they’d pounced on every inch their little legs could reach and sent his toppling over, like a particularly arrogant tree…one that was roaring with laughter. Garth felt a stab of pride at that. His son really had come into his own, the countless bite-marks, the green, brown, red and very giggly tail he now wore without complaint showed that. Idiot he may be, but uncle? The boy was peerless…he’d need a hand though. The kids had definitely had their beauty-sleep.
“Jael’yn!”
The massive pale elf stomped her way from the front of the bar, frowning sourly. “Yeah yeah, ‘tending not tarting’ keep your fur on.”
The old wolf rolled his eyes, before smirking as another yelp echoed out from the backroom. “No. Go help the boy.”
The huge maid gave a confused frown “Huh? Wha- AARGH!”
A wandering greenpup had nipped at the massive elf’s heel. The fact that she nearly cracked her head on the ceiling she leapt so high only seemed to heighten the half-orc’s babble-giggles. Jael’yn stared in horror between Garth and his granddaughter, as understanding hit her like a rampaging dragon.
Garth nodded, letting out an exhausted bark of laughter. “Gonna be a long day for the both of you.”
Gods, he needed a good, long, sleep. Insane cultists he could handle. Grandkids? No one could handle them.
He’d been tired for a solid while now.
As the old lupine reclined alongside his similarly exhausted wife, he couldn’t help but ponder just how enervating peace was. Ever since that rat-shit cult had gotten his wife exiled, he’d been filled with a near-constant nervous energy, waiting on tenterhooks for the calm before the storm to break. Now though, the storm had passed, and he could finally be tired. With a contented sigh, he let his muscles loosen. The storm was far behind them now. He smiled. His wife was back, Tollus had had his head caved in by Hela and his son wasn’t going to get his idiot self killed. Everything was right in the world.
Then, he heard an inquisitive snuffle. Garth’s smile became more rueful.
Ah yes. The reason I’m so tired.
The snuffling grew louder, multiple noses pushing up against the two exhausted lupines. Garth and Gweyr groaned.
Being grandparents wasn’t anything new, they’d gotten used to that before she had even turned up. Even so, that every single one of his daughters would shack up with the same person was…
An insistent, multi-throated whine stabbed at the old dogs’ hearts. The little ones were dangerously good at activating the pair’s doting instincts. With a sigh, Garth and Gweyr opened their eyes.
The tavern floor was fluffier, more multi-coloured, and significantly more wide-eyed than it had been mere moments ago. A horde of lupines, half-orcs and tanukis was staring hopefully up at the elder couple.
They didn’t even get a chance to speak. With a combined yap, giggle and bark, his grandchildren were upon them. A yelp of surprise managed to slip free of the old wolf’s mouth as his world became a writhing mass of excitable fur of countless hues, as his grandchildren nipped and bit and rolled over every part of him and Gweyr they could get ahold of…and apparently they were feeling particularly agile today, as a great weight suddenly bit into his ear, if he’d given himself a boulder piercing. Beside him, felt more than heard, the rumbling coo of his wife, assailed by the horde. This couldn’t last forever. Only Lumia or Sorra had enough energy to keep up with the little ones.
By sheer force of will, Garth managed to at least extricate his head from the mass of babbling children, even if it meant he ended up with inquisitive paws and energetic orcpups batting at his cheeks and nose. His wife too, with a herculean effort, pulled herself free, one of the tiny Senjalings squealing and clutching happily to her hair for dear life. They needed help.
“Mom, Old Man, where’re you at?!” a voice barked from the front of the tavern.
For a moment, they froze. Then Garth smirked. When he saw his wife’s eyes alight with amused malice, that smirk became a full-blown and very conniving chuckle. Gweyr leant down, into the fluffy tide as they wiggled excitedly, her voice conspiratorial.
“Who wants to surprise Uncle Garret?”
The yips, squeals, ‘awoos’ and all-round hyperactive wiggling said it all. In an instant, the tide went bounding off.
Garth couldn’t help but bark with laughter when he heard his son murmur “…Oh fuck.”
Muscular Garret might be, but against an incoming wave of hyperactive children, that meant about as much as his boasting. With a great thud, they’d pounced on every inch their little legs could reach and sent his toppling over, like a particularly arrogant tree…one that was roaring with laughter. Garth felt a stab of pride at that. His son really had come into his own, the countless bite-marks, the green, brown, red and very giggly tail he now wore without complaint showed that. Idiot he may be, but uncle? The boy was peerless…he’d need a hand though. The kids had definitely had their beauty-sleep.
“Jael’yn!”
The massive pale elf stomped her way from the front of the bar, frowning sourly. “Yeah yeah, ‘tending not tarting’ keep your fur on.”
The old wolf rolled his eyes, before smirking as another yelp echoed out from the backroom. “No. Go help the boy.”
The huge maid gave a confused frown “Huh? Wha- AARGH!”
A wandering greenpup had nipped at the massive elf’s heel. The fact that she nearly cracked her head on the ceiling she leapt so high only seemed to heighten the half-orc’s babble-giggles. Jael’yn stared in horror between Garth and his granddaughter, as understanding hit her like a rampaging dragon.
Garth nodded, letting out an exhausted bark of laughter. “Gonna be a long day for the both of you.”
Gods, he needed a good, long, sleep. Insane cultists he could handle. Grandkids? No one could handle them.