Pippina

flaminchi GBBR Trick or Treat 2021






30kt
Skin: 550g




Pippina had just sat in her nest when a wailing began up again outside. “For the eleven’s sake,” she muttered, even as she darted back out the den. “What’s the problem, children?” she called, flitting over to the gaggle of hatchlings a short distance away.

Elis swiveled their head around. “Soren fell over,” they told her as she landed and eased her way into the throng to find the purple-and-pink nocturne crying in the center.

Their sobs stopped quicker than a summer storm for Soren to whip their head around and bark, “I did not fall! Y-you—you pushed me!” They threw their head back and let out another yowling cry.

Pippina patted them on the back with her wing, murmuring sympathetic words, then turned to level a Look at the imperial. “Well?”

Elis shifted their feet, looking everywhere except her. “Hmm?”

“Elis, did you push Soren and make them fall?” she asked patiently.

They scratched at behind their horns. “Nooooo.”

“You did!” Soren shrieked.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’ll take care of it,” Pippina told them. “Elis?”

“I mean, I have have . . . stretched out a bit. My tail. In front of Soren’s path.”

“And then when they tripped, you turned around real fast, fast enough to smack your wing against them, while you said sorry really loudly and like you really meant it,” Aurora piped up eagerly. The other hatchlings nodded.

“Yeah,” Elis said, staring at the gaoler hard. “That might have happened too.”

Pippina sighed, massaging at a seam near her forehead. She’d have to restuff herself on the daily at this rate; these hatchlings were running her quilting thin and ragged.

“Elis, will you apologize to Soren? You’ve upset them quite a bit.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” the imperial muttered, but reluctantly walked up and planted themself before Soren, who sniffled and lifted their snout, waiting. “Sorry, Soren. I—” they sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that. Is there—” they cut a glance a Pippina, who nodded encouragingly— “anything I can do to help? So we can be friends again?”

Soren’s eyes narrowed, and Pippina feared they wouldn’t accept the apology or offer. Then she saw the gleam in their eyes, but before she could do more than open her mouth, the nocturne sprang forward with a juvenile roar hissing from their chest as they cried, “Vengeance!” and toppled the bigger hatchling over. They went rolling through the grass, growling and scuffling in what sounded to be a playful manner.

Pippina watched a while, to make sure claws and teeth weren’t being used further than gentle nips and scrapes, then settled back to let the two wrangle it out. Elis was usually quite observant and considerate of others’ feelings, and Soren rarely held a grudge. They would be alright.

She longed to return to their den. A quick little nap, ooh, or a nice cup of tea first, then a nap . . .

Small claws tugged on her wing. She looked down to see Teorah staring at her solemnly, faceted eyes gleaming like a finely-cut gem in the sunlight.

“Yes, love?” she asked, mildly surprised that the reserved hatchling had called attention to herself.

The guardian hesitated, then opened her jaws, stretching them wide enough to show all her teeth. She pointed at a glob of . . . something, lodged between two fangs far back into her mouth. It looked it had been there a while, and must’ve been painful as well, with all the swelling in her gums.

“Oh dear, that’s no good,” Pippina murmured, crouching to get a better look. “Can I pull that out for you, love?”

Keeping her mouth open, Teorah nodded.

“Alright, hold very still. I’ll try to be quick, but it might sting a little. Is that alright?”

Teorah dug her claws into the dirt, tail lashing, and nodded again. She didn’t close her eyes though as Pippina reached in and carefully pinched the wad with two claws, then wiggled it until it came loose and retracted it. Blood began to spurt from her gums, and the guardian’s eyes widened as the salty tang hit her tongue.

“I’m sorry, dear!” Pippina cried. “I’ll get some—”

Teorah held up her claws to stop her, closing her mouth and moving her lower jaw around as if to test the pain level now. She nodded. “That’s better,” she mumbled. “Thanks.”

Pippina sat back, relieved. And pleased. “You’re welcome.” Her crest twitched in amusement. “Do I want to know what this is, or . . . ?” She held up the slimy lump, which she thought might be half-digested plant material—or maybe a piece of skin from some sort of animal?

Teorah eyed it, then her. When she’d gauged that Pippina wasn’t mad, just curious, she lifted her wings in a shrug. “Probably not,” she admitted, and Pippina chuckled.

“I trust you,” she said with a wink.

Teorah nodded again, hesitated, then quickly, before she could lose her courage, bonked her head against Pippina’s chest, making the fae’s crest flare in surprise. The hatchling ran off before she could say anything, going over to join Aurora by the stream and tilting her head at the shiny pebble the gaoler showed off.

Pippina ruffled her crest happily, her previous tiredness briefly forgotten. Oh, she still wanted a cup of tea. Otherwise she’d never be rid of this headache. (Why an animated doll of fluff still got headaches, she feared she’d never figure out.) But perhaps instead of sleeping in her nest, she could go look for that old rope hammock, the one that ridgeback had gifted her. It was much too large for regular use of her own, but if her little band of hatchlings wanted to climb in to swing . . . perhaps that would tucker them all out enough to join her in an afternoon nap. Her crest perked up at the thought.

Lore by: foureclipse