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Yeah, Ma especially appreciates that if something goes wrong she doesn't have to rely on the kindness of strangers or Pops' baseline fishing buddies, most of whom are older into elderly, to get her husband help.

The Wolfhounds completely understand ice fishing at this point, although they're not necessarily comfortable with going out on the ice themselves. One or two, usually Unferth, will walk out and sit with him if the ice is thick enough, but being that their armor definitely puts them closer to two tons than one if my research means anything, the ice is rarely thick enough even during the cold snaps for more than two to really want to dare at any time. They seem to like perch as a snack, though, which is good. (We're running low on freezer space in which to put fish, even just the filets. Vaguely concerned about the poky little bones, now that I think about it, but I'll ask Apothecary Turin on my way home.)

Speaking of Unferth, he's attempting to make friends with Ma's borzoi. It's going well; we had to explain 'playing wolf' to him when the girls and Momo started getting rough and tumble in the dog run, but play-fighting without hurting one another isn't exactly foreign to Astartes, even if sparring is more serious than that.

Somehow, there is half a squad of Wolfhound scouts staying within a ten mile radius of our lake. No idea why, but Ma and I appreciate their keeping Pops company on his fishing trips. Think Apothecary Turin's appreciating the extra hands too, they tend to congregate around his camp when none of them have anything else they'd like to do.

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Somehow, there is half a squad of Wolfhound scouts staying within a ten mile radius of our lake. No idea why, but Ma and I appreciate their keeping Pops company on his fishing trips. Think Apothecary Turin's appreciating the extra hands too, they tend to congregate around his camp when none of them have anything else they'd like to do.

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Oh, he is. Unfortunately for his sanity, Pops has always been a "how can I help?" sort of person who is very prone to setting himself up as the nearest responsible adult. (Wildlife education programs, and sports coaching/reffing since his retirement.) Truthfully, I think it's the behaviors that are a bit too Momo-ish that are really hitting the "dad" instincts, since she's about as clever as a small child. (Meant positively, for clarification, some dogs are dumb as rocks.) Makes me think Unferth may be a scout, or just barely out of scout-hood. He's having some difficulty with the replying part of conversation at the minute, which is more than fair because, well, the English language.

Poor Spooks is apparently named Unferth. (I like the audible sound of it, but I have read Beowulf, and that name is unfortunate.)

He also spooks in both senses of the verb. Pops slipped on the ice when he finally noticed the hovering marine in low-contrast black and navy in the treeline near the shore. (He's fine, no worries there.) Unferth, however, froze for a sec, then hustled deeper into the woods when Pops meandered towards him to have a chat. It took the both of them getting back to the house before I was able to bully the shiny idiot into introducing himself. Pops has proceeded to dad at Unferth as if he were something like a cross between me, Matt, and Momo. (Adult daughter, adult son, and mildly bratty labrador.) No one is surprised.

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Actually, no, that's wrong. Unferth is definitely surprised.

Poor Spooks is apparently named Unferth. (I like the audible sound of it, but I have read Beowulf, and that name is unfortunate.)

He also spooks in both senses of the verb. Pops slipped on the ice when he finally noticed the hovering marine in low-contrast black and navy in the treeline near the shore. (He's fine, no worries there.) Unferth, however, froze for a sec, then hustled deeper into the woods when Pops meandered towards him to have a chat. It took the both of them getting back to the house before I was able to bully the shiny idiot into introducing himself. Pops has proceeded to dad at Unferth as if he were something like a cross between me, Matt, and Momo. (Adult daughter, adult son, and mildly bratty labrador.) No one is surprised.

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Poor Spooks is apparently named Unferth. (I like the audible sound of it, but I have read Beowulf, and that name is unfortunate.)

He also spooks in both senses of the verb. Pops slipped on the ice when he finally noticed the hovering marine in low-contrast black and navy in the treeline near the shore. (He's fine, no worries there.) Unferth, however, froze for a sec, then hustled deeper into the woods when Pops meandered towards him to have a chat. It took the both of them getting back to the house before I was able to bully the shiny idiot into introducing himself. Pops has proceeded to dad at Unferth as if he were something like a cross between me, Matt, and Momo. (Adult daughter, adult son, and mildly bratty labrador.) No one is surprised.

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On the one hand, yes, it would. On the other, too uncharacteristic. Ma would ask the Apothecary borrowing the state park nearby if drastic changes in sense of humor were typical to Astartes contact, if Pops didn't get to it first.

...Well then. Apparently, Pops has a new ice fishing buddy. Not sure he actually knows that he's got a new fishing buddy, being that the sneaky creature is in the background of a catch photo watching from the treeline, but it does explain why Spooks was around the property to begin with. Doesn't tell me who Spooks is, but that's not likely to happen until we can manage a proper introduction.

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...Well then. Apparently, Pops has a new ice fishing buddy. Not sure he actually knows that he's got a new fishing buddy, being that the sneaky creature is in the background of a catch photo watching from the treeline, but it does explain why Spooks was around the property to begin with. Doesn't tell me who Spooks is, but that's not likely to happen until we can manage a proper introduction.

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No, which I'm starting to realize is odd in and of itself.

Update: Haven't caught more than a brief glimpse after sunset, although the brisket was accepted. (Yes, I know it's a tougher cut when raw, but it's also big and decently affordable in comparison to a tenderloin or something.) Guessing their armor is pretty darkly painted based on what little I've seen, so I'm not going to pursue further. (Cursory research suggests that darker colors tend toward shyness, assholery, or both. Neither of us need me starting a conversation in that case. Or any other, really.)

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Update: Haven't caught more than a brief glimpse after sunset, although the brisket was accepted. (Yes, I know it's a tougher cut when raw, but it's also big and decently affordable in comparison to a tenderloin or something.) Guessing their armor is pretty darkly painted based on what little I've seen, so I'm not going to pursue further. (Cursory research suggests that darker colors tend toward shyness, assholery, or both. Neither of us need me starting a conversation in that case. Or any other, really.)

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Ah. Well, now I have new questions.

To answer your question, yes, we do. Which prompts my own question on whether or not anyone has ever discussed rules and regs of hunting in the US with them. I'm hoping yes, because it means I don't have to have that conversation. (Pops was a conservation officer for years, so I know where to find all the information, I'm just a bitch when the impression given is that no one is listening to me when I'm explaining something.) (Though, in all likelihood there's a dispensation in place that I'm not aware of.)

Dumb question: The wandering Astartes, their armor is designed for temperature extremes, yes? Thought I spotted something big in the neighbor's field, was not an animal or a vehicle. It has admittedly just warmed up enough to snow the last couple of days after a few weeks of below freezing, but cold and wet is worse, in my opinion. (Not that we have a functional way to warm up the gent if he isn't fine.)

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Wait what's a buildings fire evacuation plan if you aren't supposed to use the elevator to get down

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Good to know, thank you. We're rural enough that it's incredibly rare to see any. Not saying they're not there, just, pine trees. Many, many pine trees.

Dumb question: The wandering Astartes, their armor is designed for temperature extremes, yes? Thought I spotted something big in the neighbor's field, was not an animal or a vehicle. It has admittedly just warmed up enough to snow the last couple of days after a few weeks of below freezing, but cold and wet is worse, in my opinion. (Not that we have a functional way to warm up the gent if he isn't fine.)

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Dumb question: The wandering Astartes, their armor is designed for temperature extremes, yes? Thought I spotted something big in the neighbor's field, was not an animal or a vehicle. It has admittedly just warmed up enough to snow the last couple of days after a few weeks of below freezing, but cold and wet is worse, in my opinion. (Not that we have a functional way to warm up the gent if he isn't fine.)