#I know you didn’t ask for Emmy but when I was reading through vixen’s profile and such this idea just popped into my head

[benscursedkid]

Either leaf or TV for my mc Vixen and Barnaby? (Please forgive me I dont have emojis on my crappy phone) it can be either one. All of Vixens info is on my account @rosievixen

-rosievixen

🍁 - playing with leaves

Barnaby yawns, running a hand through his hair as he casts a bleary look around his place. It’s quiet, eerily quiet, which strikes him as a little odd considering Vixen’s wild nature and early morning tendencies.

Upon a further sweep, Barnaby notes that neither Vixen nor Emmy are anywhere in the manor. This only leaves him to wonder where they’ve gone off to. For a moment, a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. Seeing as it’s his first day off in months, he’d been hoping to utilize his time to spend as much time with his girls as he can. Now he’ll have to wait for them to find their way back.

It’s only when Barnaby nears the window that offers a clear view to his grand backyard that a smile finally comes to his face.

He’d been hesitant on coming back to his old house after graduating Hogwarts, but seeing as he is the lone sole inheritor, Margie—the Lee Manor’s Head of Staff—suggested he renovate the place to better suit his liking. All of the staff had been adamantly vying for his return and he realized that closing down the house and leaving it to the wayside would be putting a fair amount of people out of a job. It was then he decided to give the house its own chance for a clean slate.

Now it’s almost Halloween, Emmy is already a year old, the renovations are complete, and Barnaby likes to think that it already feels much warmer than it did in his youth. Old matters aside, he’s actually glad he thought to take them here for a three-day weekend getaway.

Grabbing an spare piece of bacon, Barnaby doesn’t even decide to dress for the day before making his way out the door and over to his girls.

From what he can gather, it appears that Emmy and Vixen had the mutual thought that the coloring leaves of fresh autumn looked particularly fun this morning.

“What’s going on here?” Barnaby laughs once he manages to get close enough to Emmy to launch a surprise attack in which he bundles her up in his arms. “Why wasn’t I invited to all the fun?”

Vixen arches a brow at him, coy, but doesn’t comment on the fact that waking him up can sometimes be more trouble than it’s worth. Instead, she gestures around them to all the red, orange, and yellow leaves, flowing in the wind. As though acting of their own accord, the leaves dance around the yard like in a trance, only stopping to fall into one of the many piles scattered about the expanse. A charm most likely, probably cast by one of the staff, but clearly Vixen and Emmy had made even more use of it.

Emmy giggles from her place against his chest, her red hair falling in her eyes and framing her face. Her cheeks and nose sport a slight rosy hue, no doubt due to the chilling fall weather. She reaches up to cup Barnaby’s cheeks, her fingers like ice and eliciting a hiss out of him. This, in turn, only causes her to giggle more.

“Emmy saw the leaves dancing about and wanted to get a better look,” Vixen says, a healthy hint of fondness seeping into her tone. “We’ve been out here playing around for a good half hour now.”

“Play!” Emmy shouts, even though she’s only inches from his ear. “Da, play!”

Grinning, Barnaby catches Vixen’s eye and they both nod in silent agreement. From under her breath, Vixen mutters some incoherent incantation and suddenly the leaves shift their direction.

Slowly, so as to give her time to dispute, Barnaby lowers Emmy back down to the ground. When her feet hit the dry soil, the multi-colored leaves surround her. They dance and sway in a spiral, some circling her and others lingering within her reach. A bright, bubbly laugh spills from her lips and she reaches pudgy hands out to try and grasp them.

However, the leaves prove just as mischievous as their muse and they evade her touch. Emmy is not deterred, chasing after them like she does butterflies in spring. Her laughter echoes around her like a melody carried over to her parents by the mercy of the breeze.

Barnaby smiles lazily, the kind reserved for late Sunday mornings, and wraps an arm around Vixen’s shoulders. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

Pulling him closer by the waist, Vixen returns his smile, allowing her head to fall back against him. “Yeah, she really is.”