05-14-2016, 02:50 AM
I could just melt into this moment and stay here forever. Pazuzu wrapped around me, holding onto me, the smell of violets and the feel of his skin on mine. Far too soon he stirs, amusement in his voice as he goes to set our demon free. Not a fan of cages, huh? I hear you, tiny beast. I stay put, breathing out a content little sigh even as Tycho makes his irritation perfectly clear without a single word, and they negotiate an agreement for future such incidents that both of them find acceptable.
God, they're adorable. I could sit and watch them all day. Our son is clever and unafraid to make demands and voice his displeasure. Well. Express it, at any rate. He has an eager mind, and damn if it isn't fun to watch him take on a new skill. Even if that skill involves making blood pacts before he's seen his first sunset. I can't say I'm surprised, though. Not after his solemn attention to our wounds.
Immediately after they reach their agreement, Tycho turns back to the place his father marked off as requiring adult supervision. Of course he did. Because it's off-limits if he's alone, so better take advantage of the fact that he's not, right? Why do I get the feeling this kid is going to find a way to turn my hair grey, genetics be damned?
He heads straight for the area beneath the log, too, right where it would crush him if it fell, and starts digging around. I get to my feet and walk over, unhurried because his father's watchful eyes are already on him and frankly there's more Pazuzu could do to intervene than I could. Still. “Hey, kid, that's dangerous.” Tycho raises his nose from the dirt and turns that intense stare of his on me, his head tilting in a way I'm beginning to find extremely endearing. I nod up at the log. “It's balanced rather precariously, don't you think? That's why adult supervision is required, because it could fall.”
He steps out from under the log to get a better look, studying the point of contact with the ground and where it's propped up haphazardly overhead. With a look of deep concentration on his face, he presses his shoulder to the log and applies a little pressure. The log wobbles, and I freeze, hardly daring to breathe for fear that it might knock the damn log over. “Come on out from under there, son. We'll find something else to investigate.” I think I would be having a heart attack if I were on my own. I can't even blink until he nods once and walks out from under the wooden death trap.
Oh hello, air. So this is what breathing feels like. Letting out a sigh of relief, I make my way toward the menacing tree corpse with one eye on Tycho and the other on the lookout for something safer to use as a distraction. Ah, but the relief is short-lived. Before I can find something to redirect his attention, he immediately walks around to the base and starts climbing on the end.
At least this way he isn't going to get crushed if the damn log falls. I make my way to his side, catching him with my nose as he starts to lose his balance. “If you're going to insist on climbing, make sure you have a spotter. Someone to help you balance, and catch you if you start to fall. Hooves and heights are not the best combination, little demon. And not out of reach, understand?” With a grin over his shoulder and a quick nod, he is back to scrambling for purchase on the bark.
God, they're adorable. I could sit and watch them all day. Our son is clever and unafraid to make demands and voice his displeasure. Well. Express it, at any rate. He has an eager mind, and damn if it isn't fun to watch him take on a new skill. Even if that skill involves making blood pacts before he's seen his first sunset. I can't say I'm surprised, though. Not after his solemn attention to our wounds.
Immediately after they reach their agreement, Tycho turns back to the place his father marked off as requiring adult supervision. Of course he did. Because it's off-limits if he's alone, so better take advantage of the fact that he's not, right? Why do I get the feeling this kid is going to find a way to turn my hair grey, genetics be damned?
He heads straight for the area beneath the log, too, right where it would crush him if it fell, and starts digging around. I get to my feet and walk over, unhurried because his father's watchful eyes are already on him and frankly there's more Pazuzu could do to intervene than I could. Still. “Hey, kid, that's dangerous.” Tycho raises his nose from the dirt and turns that intense stare of his on me, his head tilting in a way I'm beginning to find extremely endearing. I nod up at the log. “It's balanced rather precariously, don't you think? That's why adult supervision is required, because it could fall.”
He steps out from under the log to get a better look, studying the point of contact with the ground and where it's propped up haphazardly overhead. With a look of deep concentration on his face, he presses his shoulder to the log and applies a little pressure. The log wobbles, and I freeze, hardly daring to breathe for fear that it might knock the damn log over. “Come on out from under there, son. We'll find something else to investigate.” I think I would be having a heart attack if I were on my own. I can't even blink until he nods once and walks out from under the wooden death trap.
Oh hello, air. So this is what breathing feels like. Letting out a sigh of relief, I make my way toward the menacing tree corpse with one eye on Tycho and the other on the lookout for something safer to use as a distraction. Ah, but the relief is short-lived. Before I can find something to redirect his attention, he immediately walks around to the base and starts climbing on the end.
At least this way he isn't going to get crushed if the damn log falls. I make my way to his side, catching him with my nose as he starts to lose his balance. “If you're going to insist on climbing, make sure you have a spotter. Someone to help you balance, and catch you if you start to fall. Hooves and heights are not the best combination, little demon. And not out of reach, understand?” With a grin over his shoulder and a quick nod, he is back to scrambling for purchase on the bark.
Daeryssa
of the restless heart