In an encyclopeda, the axolotl is defined as a Mexican neotenic mole salamanders belonging to the Tiger Salamander complex. In practice, it is something like a cross between Kirby and a Wooper
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Steve, who has beaten a swift and automatic retreat into the water, pokes his head up again and stares at his still-bipedal sister. There's an overexcited little amphibian splashing around in the shallows, Val. Feel free to boggle.
Steve's attempts to speak are just coming out as quiet little chirrups, more like a sucking-in of breath than a traditional vocalisation.
But so long as Steve keeps freaking out in the water, Val will stick around out of a determination to find out what the fuck, right? Long as she doesn't go away from the pond (because Steve has discovered that his ability to leave it is limited), he can keep trying to communicate.
Hmm. There are pebbles along the shoreline, right? Steve makes a beeline for the land again, because he has an idea.
She sits down, the better to watch the little amphibian's antics. (She's pretty sure it's not a gecko, but like fuck does she recognize the species, and who cares if she gets it wrong?)
The words she's speaking are mostly booming noise and hard to focus on; axolotls weren't designed to hold conversations with humans. But he understands their tone well enough, and to be honest, Val's voice minus meaning is still Val's voice and is still an enormous relief to hear.
Hmm. Okay, so there weren't as many pebbles as he'd thought. Maybe pulling up blades of grass with his broad frog-mouth and using them to spell out an S will work better?
...Good lord, grass is hard to write with when you're only thirty centimetres long. That looks more like a hash gone horribly wrong. :/
Stevie keeps on truckin', with increasing frustration, but with a little more success as he practices. The positioning of his eyes is far from ideal, what with his rounded snout taking up most of the bottom half of his vision. But after a little while, he manages to use that snout to push the bits of grass into a vaguely recognisable S shape.
He's decided to go with the one word that will say the most with the fewest letters, you see.
Steve takes a rest before he gets to work on the E, because running around for this long is kind of exhausting, especially in this sluggishly cold weather.
It's a winter's evening and he's cold blooded! Cut the little amphibian some slack!
Although - that was his name up there, she definitely said his name. Oh thank fucking Christ. Steve raises his little amphibious head and gets to noddin', or at least waving it vaguely in circles. Nodding one's head: another thing that axolotls weren't designed for.
If this seems insufficiently eloquent, that's for two reasons: one, she kind of got all profanitied out a few tags ago. Two, she's busy, and what she's busy doing is carefully offering Gecko Steve her hand to crawl onto.
Steve's little axolotl senses say RUN! (Or, they would, if he weren't cold and tired (the two of which are pretty much synonyms anyway).) But they also say 'ooh, warmth', and his human brain wants to go onto that hand, so the hand wins that vote two to one.
Not that she expects an answer, but it's a bit of a mystery. There's a good reason this pond has no fish.
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no
no, wait
...Oh holy crap, that's Val!
Steve, who has beaten a swift and automatic retreat into the water, pokes his head up again and stares at his still-bipedal sister. There's an overexcited little amphibian splashing around in the shallows, Val. Feel free to boggle.
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She crouches down by the shore to get on its level.
...Something about the way it moves... No, c'mon, it couldn't be.
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But so long as Steve keeps freaking out in the water, Val will stick around out of a determination to find out what the fuck, right? Long as she doesn't go away from the pond (because Steve has discovered that his ability to leave it is limited), he can keep trying to communicate.
Hmm. There are pebbles along the shoreline, right? Steve makes a beeline for the land again, because he has an idea.
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She sits down, the better to watch the little amphibian's antics. (She's pretty sure it's not a gecko, but like fuck does she recognize the species, and who cares if she gets it wrong?)
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Hmm. Okay, so there weren't as many pebbles as he'd thought. Maybe pulling up blades of grass with his broad frog-mouth and using them to spell out an S will work better?
...Good lord, grass is hard to write with when you're only thirty centimetres long. That looks more like a hash gone horribly wrong. :/
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"Jesus shat the bed. Don't tell me you're trying to write something."
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He's decided to go with the one word that will say the most with the fewest letters, you see.
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(She has an idea. It can't possibly be right, but she has an idea.)
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S T
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Steve takes a rest before he gets to work on the E, because running around for this long is kind of exhausting, especially in this sluggishly cold weather.
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Despite everything, she's kinda grinning a little.
Only Stephen Alexander Bell could get turned into a newt while living quietly on the Cooper farm.
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Although - that was his name up there, she definitely said his name. Oh thank fucking Christ. Steve raises his little amphibious head and gets to noddin', or at least waving it vaguely in circles. Nodding one's head: another thing that axolotls weren't designed for.
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If this seems insufficiently eloquent, that's for two reasons: one, she kind of got all profanitied out a few tags ago. Two, she's busy, and what she's busy doing is carefully offering Gecko Steve her hand to crawl onto.
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