The Underground

May 30, 2006 16:40

They -- the few of them -- moved underground. There was new rules. New things. Hunt alone, strike swift and sure and retreat. Die before you reveal the pit ( Read more... )

apharsites, harth fray

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Comments 16

dogpocalypse May 30 2006, 22:44:12 UTC
Thail is fond of Harth, and Thail considers herself the translator.

Thail has become a leader of the packs.

You heard, she commands. Go.

And they do, digging through the mess. Thail rests her head on Harth's feet.

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harth_fray May 30 2006, 22:48:26 UTC
Thail is petted.

The vampire magog, too. They pet. Petting is good. Hell, they sort of like petting each other. It is soothing.

Good, good. If they cannot find him, we will simply take pieces, and we will make him anew. It can be done. He strangely missed the voice of the old magog reverend, telling him what he could or could not do.

It was like having a father, he realized. He knew this only from shuffling memories, touching the others -- Giles, Buffy, seeing that relationship from both sides -- that a father did certain things, special things-- made you feel a certain way... when you were bad.

He snaps his head up, and squashed the brief moment of conscience. No; he would indulge the thought of bringing Bem back, Red Plague, because it would hurt him and that is what Harth lived for.

Hurting others.

But not the dogs.

You are getting stronger among the pack, Thail. This is good. We wlll work together, your pack and mine.

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dogpocalypse May 30 2006, 22:54:37 UTC
We do our best to accomodate, Thail replies, mimicking someone else she'd heard before.

Someone she may not have mentioned, and she doesn't, just yet.

They trust me, as they love me, in their ways. My pups, and their friends especially. It works. It manages. Fair-as-is, they say.

Her tail sways, a bit, whacking a vampire magog in the ankle. Thail does not care. The motion wakes up Corwin, though, and he barks irritably before falling asleep again.

I pity those who do not have a lap or a leg to lie on.

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harth_fray May 30 2006, 23:00:25 UTC
"We have plenty of those, and you warm us," Harth says as he scritches ears, using his voice now. "Even we can love, Thail, and we are fond of you."

He was, anyway. He didn't know-- or really care-- how the magog felt.

"All will be well, you'll see."

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