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invisibletoallbutfaeries · 6 years ago

Text

Prayer

Family Focus: The O'Malley’s

Word Count: 2,220

Page count: Just over 7 pages

Brief: Now that the plague crisis is over, Hern is still adjusting to life on Gaia with knowledge of the magical. His family has gone with the village herbalist to buy a dog on Earth, leaving Hern to watch over Kyra’s dogs and wonder about how he will handle having a new dog of his own.

Hern went about his daily routine: feed the Yale, ensure that Hanon the stag is doing well and check the does to see if Hanon had been getting up to anything the night before. Clean what farm he had, eat breakfast, clean the house, chores from around the village, repeat. Usually he’d ask his children to help, but they’d been gone for about five days with their mother and the village herbalist to look for a pet dog. Domestic dogs hadn’t been found on Gaia yet, so they needed to go to Earth to see if there was an adoptable one from the few number there.

They’d been living on this planet for so long Hern himself had forgotten how things were back on Earth. He hoped well, things moved so fast there from what he remembered though. Time slowed here on Gaia. It was usually peaceful enough that he wouldn’t worry about having a dog or not. Especially in the last year or so.

Then his wife Brighid reminded him that they’d gone 20 years under a curse after their son ate the wrong berries. Recently more magical shenanigans had began appearing around the house due to faeries of all sorts deciding the farm was their playground. The pixies were the worst. Once they discovered that Yale could produce milk when they were happy and cared for rather than just for young they became insistent that they should have some as well. They’d even harassed the yale about it and broken into Hern’s store rooms to leave spilled milk everywhere in their quest for a thimble of it. Due to treaties he couldn’t hurt the Fae on his farm unless they attempted to physically harm him first, so he’d been going through a lot of salt in an attempt to passive aggressively dissuade them from messing with the farm as much.

After some time he couldn’t argue with his wife’s insistence to get a dog. If anything the biggest arguments for him were that it would help keep the children to be safe, and Bran out of trouble, and he could have help when taking care of the Yale herd or even hunting with Arkas and his nephew.

He still felt tired just thinking of trying to raise a 13 year old, a 10 year old, and a dog at the same time though. Especially when 10 year old Bran had a habit for mischief. He may look like he was in his 30s, but Hern was chronologically in his 60s. He felt he should be allowed to claim being too old for some things….if Brighid would ever let him. His bonnie wife was older than him, she probably wouldn’t. It was the 31st century though, maybe he could manage to convince her that tiredness of the soul trumped the youth of the body. She had a younger soul, that’d be his excuse.

At the sound of yipping Hern looked up from washing his dishes. The herbalist, Kyra, had left him with her two dogs so he’d get used to having canines and so she didn’t need to look for a dog sitter. He spotted the little one, a small ball of fluff with fairly impressive eyebrows around his little black eyes. He was tiny, but still a puppy. Kyra said there was a good chance he was already at his full size though, making his eyebrows and the hint of a beard all the more impressive as he looked like a small wise man. He was pretty sure she’d said his name was “Marcus Alexander”.

The small dog began to bark when he realized Hern was looking at him, running up to him and trying to climb his leg in an effort to be picked up. He didn't make it very far after he’d climbed the man’s foot. Hern chuckled and dried his hands before picking up the black and white fluff ball, the puppy barely fitting in one hand. Which it began to incessantly lick. It was an excitable thing.

“Stop tha’ please,” Hern sighed, petting the top of it's head and gently trying to pull it's face away from his wrist from the pressure of the patting. Marcus seemed to get the idea and stopped, now just talking to him in small “awooo-oo-oo”s and wagging his curly tail. Hern laughed as the pup talked continuously.

“You’d be no good for huntin’, little guy. Too noisy. A Fae’d find ya right quick and scoop ya up, let alone a bunny or deer catching wind of ya before we spot it.” The fluff with eyebrows responded with a yip. Hern chuckled and decided to bring the pup with him for his other chores. He could probably watch him while he cleaned out Brighid’s smithy. He wasn’t sure where Sweets, Kyra’s giant hound, was. Nor did he know how the hound could disappear like he did, though he did make for a better guard dog than Marcus.

After searching the house for Sweets, Hern figured the big dog could handle itself and instead carried Marcus outside to help him with cleaning the smithy. The little pup proved more useful than expected, as he was happy to carry any dirty rags to the buckets and make a big pile or to jump into beginning cobwebs, though Hern wasn’t sure if he did that on purpose or simply didn’t see the webs before trotting through them. Hern couldn’t help but laugh as he cleaned up his wife’s tools and working space, wondering how she could handle all the soot and dust. Then again he dealt with animals and their dung, so perhaps he shouldn’t question her grime of choice.

What if the dog they chose slobbered though? He would draw the line at slobbering. What if it was as much of a licker as Marcus? He watched the pup jump into a dust pile, yipping excitedly the whole while. What if the new dog was big but had the same energy as Marcus? Could he handle a teenage girl, an 10-year old boy, and an excitable bulldozer of a dog at the same time? What if it was a brand new puppy with no training whatsoever? Could he train a dog? Brighid would help him, maybe Kyra too, but how would he adjust to training a dog? How much could his children train it? How much would they have to adjust?

He was getting tired again.

As the sun reached the western sky, leaving everything in a soft orange glow of afternoon, he heard a loud, deep bark echo throughout the smithy. From the trills of the yale he figured they heard the menacing sound as well. Behind him Sweets had appeared, the black hound blending in with the shadows and staring at Hern with amber eyes that near reflected red in the afternoon sun. It stood, turning it's wolf like face towards the road leading to town, where a small group could be seen approaching.

Hern grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands as he walked up to stand next to Sweets, barely registering how the dog began to lick soot off of Marcus when the pup followed. The group up ahead had several red-headed individuals and a brunette who he recognized as Sweet and Marcus’ owner. Next to her was a 10 year old boy who stood a head shorter than her, a slightly taller young girl, and a strong, beautiful, heavy set woman who he knew could not keep her smithy clean to save her life. His family. How he missed them. His wife was even singing in her bonnie voice.

Lead her to a place,

Guide her with your grace,

To a place where she’ll be safe

In five days he’d almost forgotten how often she sang that song. He really wished she’d learn a different one. There was only so many times one could hear “A Mother’s Prayer” throughout the day. Brigid was even trying to mimic the ancient singer Celin Dion, despite her heavy Irish accent getting in her way and not lending well to mimicking a Canadian one. He was already tired.

Walking between the group was a pale golden....dog? Small fluffy deer? It was tall as far as Hern could see, almost as tall as Sweets, who’s shoulder almost matched with Hern’s elbow. Hern was 5’9”, it wasn’t a small feat for the huge dog. It even had a similar barrel-body look, despite the long thin legs. It's head was small and almost looked like a crows skull, but with a big black dog nose at the end. The hound looked as tired as Hern felt though, he already felt a kinship with it.

He and the two dogs that were with him began walking to meet the group at the front door, Kyra greeting her dogs with pets and kisses as Marcus practically lept from Hern’s side into her arms and Sweets simply silently trotted up to her and licked her hand in kind. Bran and Branwen ran up to him, both excitedly telling him all about what they’d seen back on Earth, how Branwen was so happy she didn’t have visions, all the dogs they’d seen, etc. Neither could seem to agree on a subject to stay on, either with each other or themselves. Brighid began laughing, staying by their new dog and petting it's head as it sat down to rest.

“I’m so glad you’re all home! It sounds like ya all had an adventure, but you might wanna slow down before you gobble up your own words there.” At his teasing and laughter both children stopped. Before they could begin again he quickly asked “can ya introduce me to our new family member here?” He gestured to the dog, who looked up at him with big brown eyes. It's floppy ears lifted up a bit at being acknowledged and it's breathing sped up, it's big chest heaving up and down. Hern spotted a long fluffy tail wagging behind it as well. A straight one, unlike the dogs he’d been watching for the past five days. Brighid got her word in before their children could go into, what was undoubtedly, long winded stories of how they found her and probably long tales. Knowing Bran it probably included ninjas and pirates somewhere, and knowing Branwen an amazon or a Conan the Barbarian look-alike might appear in her story.

“She’s apparently from Borzoi and Afghan lines, started breeding them together to make them more healthy. They’re hunting and sighthound breeds though, so she’ll do well on the farm and watching the kids both.” The breed sounded fancy, but then again any dog on Earth was fancy now. Even Sweets, who was technically a mutt with a scary wolf face but silly curly tail. Once his children let go of him Hern approached the dog, getting a closer look at the tall little lady. She looked young, or at least like she wasn’t particularly old, but she looked to be full grown and intelligent enough. When he knelt in front of her she even stood up, her front paws pacing slightly a few times before she stood still and pretty, her big brown eyes trained on him. He could tell that behind her tiredness was an excitement that would probably have the tall girl running if she could. She was a pretty thing, athletic looking too. When her breathing got heavier he heard Kyra laugh to the side.

“I think she’s still getting used to the oxygen levels here. Should be ok, but I’d let her get some rest for a few days until she’s used to the easier breathing.” He looked over to see her standing now, one hand on Sweets while the other was smoothing the fur between his dog’s ears. The dog calmed a bit, but she was still staring at Hern in anticipation, blinking every so often.

“She sounds like a good girl,” the golden dog barked happily, leaning over and licking his face. He’d have to train her outta that. “She got a name yet?”

“I’ve named her Prayer,” Brighid proudly proclaimed. When he shot her a look she began laughing almost maniacally. “I’m going to go make her a water and food bowel! I’ll go to town and get help making a collar and leash tomorrow!” before Hern could protest, having JUST cleaned her smithy, she was already gone and bouncing excitedly off to work. She was even loudly singing “A Mother’s Prayer” the whole way, not quite keeping in key which meant she was purposely messing with him, despite having actually named the dog after the song.

Hern sighed, sitting fully on the ground and wondering how things could go from quiet to boisterous so quickly. Prayer walked up and layed next to him, putting her long slender head in his lap. He couldn’t help but smile down at her and pet her, causing her to wag her tail again, it hitting his back like a whip. The small upturn of her lips and the excited panting she did made it hard to get upset with the hound though, and instead he simply kept petting her. It was only moments before his children were sitting on the other side of the dog, Branwen hugging her neck and Bran petting her back. Both were excitedly talking about all the trips they’d go on with the dog, dismissing their father when he warned them from breaking rules. Kyra was laughing and excused herself to head home with her dogs, leaving the small family to sit on their front lawn, petting their new dog, and discussing the children’s trip to Earth.

By the time it got dark Brighid called them in for dinner. The children ran in but Hern slowly led Prayer in, letting her relax and get used to her surroundings first, even getting her one of their nicer bowels to eat in for the night since Brighid hadn’t finished Prayer’s personal bowls. When his wife mentioned she might have bloating troubles, Hern kept an extra eye on the hound to make sure she was drinking and eating nice and slowly. He didn’t want her to hurt herself. Brighid teased him about treating the dog like a baby. By bedtime Prayer joined the kids for a bit, though eventually she found her way to Brigid and Hern’s bed, curling herself between them at the foot. Hern was beginning to see that keeping Prayer around might be less of a change than he thought, and found himself enjoying his excited hound more and more every morning.

#gaia stories

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