#shes not gonna bite you skittish owlet

[kurolini909]

Sibling bonding.

... One pair is handling this better than the other.

Here we go, Foxy! Like you do, figured it'd be fun exploring how some interactions with our characters might play out.

Mort and Midnight by @foxyk7;

Gýro and Boreal by me (@kuro909).

#my art #kuro909 #undertale au #undertale #undertale shipkid #FoxyK7 #mort #reaper x dust shipkid #midnight #outer x nightmare shipkid #gýro #Afterdeath fanchild #boreal #nightkiller fanchild #rivals duo #yeeeah thats rhe other half of what I wanted to give you #Gýro attempting to exchange notes... hes failing it #shes not gonna bite you skittish owlet #btw... #guys im going through some awful things rn #I'm posting just because I need a distraction #but I might be a bit out of it for a while so... #yeah #just a warning that if I ignore conversations or am kind of blank with responses (I'll try my best not to but IF) I'm sorry in advance

[t-khalynn-random]

At the Heart of the Matter, Part 1

- On the Care of Owlets and Little Things

“Kalen, ya gotta stop! Yer gonna make ‘im sick!” Tala groaned at her taller friend reproachfully.

“But Tala, he seems so hungry! Are you sure he’s eating enough?”

The tavern wasn’t too crowded today, and the other patrons ignored the pair’s antics.

The scholar was already busy handing the tiny owlet another handful of treats, seemingly delighted in the creature’s cute enthusiasm. Tala tried not to think too much about what the treats were made of. Pickles had concocted the recipe himself, and while she trusted the other lala to not (intentionally) make her feathered charge sick, another detailed breakdown of the ingredients (“…ground etf bones for calcium, and a natural binder… genuine top-grade marmot meat and by-products, including nutrient-rich viscera and organs… fiber to aid in both digestion and regurgitation…. and super-secret formula ‘x’ to give him super-secret mind control powers!”) would likely turn her stomach.

“He eats fine!” she insisted defensively. “But Rowley is a LITTLE owl, so he gets fed LITTLE bits atta time! Feedin ‘im too much is bad fer 'is digestion!”

“I’m sure he would know to stop, before making himself sick?

She just gave him an incredulous look, and shook her head. “Ya’ve never babysat li’l kids, have ya? ‘Cause li’l kids an’ silly critters NEVER know better. Some of ‘em will eat, an’ eat, an’ then yak it all up on ya, only ta start eatin’ again, if ya let ‘em.”

The miqo'te only chuckled.

Despite the laughter, the implication that she wasn’t properly caring for the small owl was irksome. Lingering feelings of guilt and regret pulsed through her at the very idea.

When Rowley had been found, both his right wing and leg had required tending. His wing recovered completely (amazingly, the bones in the wing had healed true), but despite her best efforts, his leg never healed right. While he could fly well enough, and even put some weight on the leg, the irreversible damage made hard landings difficult, if not impossible. And without the ability to reliably catch prey unassisted, it was unlikely Rowley could survive alone on his own.

So instead of flying in the woods freely, he became yet another member of Tala’s slowly growing collection of cute, cuddly, yet slightly crippled critters.

It made her sad, sometimes. Looking at them all, all injured or maimed, or just too incapable of living without help. Like Stumbles, the cross-eyed dwarf raptor - as a baby he had tried to bite Stalwart’s leg near Camp Overlook, which resulted in a powerful chocobo-kick to the head. While she couldn’t really blame Stal, she also couldn’t in good conscience leave the baby creature to die of a concussion, so she had taken him in and nursed him back to health. But sadly, somehow the concussion had damaged something beyond repair, and he never really grew up. Even today, he was small, and clumsy, trapped in perpetual babyhood.

They were all like that. Red the lesser panda, found near the entrance of the Aery, was partially blind. Whiskers, the exotic “coeurl-breed” kitten, was skittish and scared of everything, even his own shadow - the aftermath of being left in a small cage with his mother’s corpse for weeks, stuffed into a cramped smuggling compartment hidden in a transport wagon.

And Scout… well technically Scout was supposed to be one of her successes. The young griffin had been found suffering of hypothermia and malnutrition. After being nursed back to health, and checking to make sure the youngster could hunt on it’s own, they had released the beast back into the wild. But one day out of the blue, Tala had found Scout back in her old stall in the stables. Clearly the griffin had done well on her own: fully grown, hale, healthy - and gravid, as they quickly discovered. After a few days, they found her nesting a single egg.

And that was how the lalafell found herself the foster-grandmother of a rambunctious youngster named Scooter, while also trying to train Scout to fly with a rider.

And while she was fond of them all, sometimes it was all just a little depressing. It felt like she’d failed them all, because of her inadequacies as a healer. But the price for her failure was their freedom. Although as Kory pointed out, it wasn’t as if the little beasts resented her less-than-perfect results.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she’d told the despondent healer. “They don’t care. They’re simple beasts. You gave them a chance at life, where they would have died. If they weren’t happy with their lot, they would have run away a long time ago. Even that runty lizard that bites everyone. You care, and they know it.”

Still, perhaps it was no wonder she’d been spending more time brandishing her sword than tending the wounded. Her confidence as a conjurer had definitely taken a few hits, here and there. At least when she made mistakes in a sword fight, she and she alone was the one to suffer for them.

Usually, anyway.

Tala shook away her stray thoughts when she saw Kalen reach for more owl-treats, and stood on her chair to block his hand with an irritated grumble. Before she could launch into another lecture, a soft cough interrupted her. She looked up to an unfamiliar face.

“Miss Tahl?” the young conjurer asked, uncertainly.

Tala winced at the use the name, and nodded reluctantly, steadfastly ignoring the curious look Kalen shot her. “Yes?”

He looked relieved. “I’m glad to have caught you. Brother E-Sumi-Yan has asked to speak with you.”

Tala blinked, surprised. “Of course. Please tell the Guildmaster ‘m on my way, an’ will be there shortly.”

The youngster nodded, and hurried out the door. She watched him go, then turned to Kalen to make her apologies. The miquo’te was cuddling a very sleepy-looking Rowley. She sighed, reluctant to wake the tired avian, but her friend waved her off.

“Go, Tala, I can watch this little one for a while.”

“Thankee, Kalen. If he gets ta be too much, ya can drop ‘im off at th’ Brat headquarters,” she offered, while discreetly leaving a pouch of Rowley-supplies, just in case. “Horatio knows how ta care fer him.”

He nodded at her, as she made her own way out, headed for the Conjurer’s Guild.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Talathar #gilgamesh-rp

[t-khalynn-tales]

At the Heart of the Matter, Part 1

- On the Care of Owlets and Little Things

“Kalen, ya gotta stop! Yer gonna make ‘im sick!” Tala groaned at her taller friend reproachfully.

“But Tala, he seems so hungry! Are you sure he’s eating enough?”

The tavern wasn’t too crowded today, and the other patrons ignored the pair’s antics.

The scholar was already busy handing the tiny owlet another handful of treats, seemingly delighted in the creature’s cute enthusiasm. Tala tried not to think too much about what the treats were made of. Pickles had concocted the recipe himself, and while she trusted the other lala to not (intentionally) make her feathered charge sick, another detailed breakdown of the ingredients (“…ground etf bones for calcium, and a natural binder… genuine top-grade marmot meat and by-products, including nutrient-rich viscera and organs… fiber to aid in both digestion and regurgitation…. and super-secret formula ‘x’ to give him super-secret mind control powers!”) would likely turn her stomach.

“He eats fine!” she insisted defensively. “But Rowley is a LITTLE owl, so he gets fed LITTLE bits atta time! Feedin ‘im too much is bad fer ‘is digestion!”

“I’m sure he would know to stop, before making himself sick?

She just gave him an incredulous look, and shook her head. “Ya’ve never babysat li’l kids, have ya? ‘Cause li’l kids an’ silly critters NEVER know better. Some of ‘em will eat, an’ eat, an’ then yak it all up on ya, only ta start eatin’ again, if ya let ‘em.”

The miqo'te only chuckled.

Despite the laughter, the implication that she wasn’t properly caring for the small owl was irksome. Lingering feelings of guilt and regret pulsed through her at the very idea.

When Rowley had been found, both his right wing and leg had required tending. His wing recovered completely (amazingly, the bones in the wing had healed true), but despite her best efforts, his leg never healed right. While he could fly well enough, and even put some weight on the leg, the irreversible damage made hard landings difficult, if not impossible. And without the ability to reliably catch prey unassisted, it was unlikely Rowley could survive alone on his own.

So instead of flying in the woods freely, he became yet another member of Tala’s slowly growing collection of cute, cuddly, yet slightly crippled critters.

It made her sad, sometimes. Looking at them all, all injured or maimed, or just too incapable of living without help. Like Stumbles, the cross-eyed dwarf raptor - as a baby he had tried to bite Stalwart’s leg near Camp Overlook, which resulted in a powerful chocobo-kick to the head. While she couldn’t really blame Stal, she also couldn’t in good conscience leave the baby creature to die of a concussion, so she had taken him in and nursed him back to health. But sadly, somehow the concussion had damaged something beyond repair, and he never really grew up. Even today, he was small, and clumsy, trapped in perpetual babyhood.

They were all like that. Red the lesser panda, found near the entrance of the Aery, was partially blind. Whiskers, the exotic “coeurl-breed” kitten, was skittish and scared of everything, even his own shadow - the aftermath of being left in a small cage with his mother’s corpse for weeks, stuffed into a cramped smuggling compartment hidden in a transport wagon.

And Scout… well technically Scout was supposed to be one of her successes. The young griffin had been found suffering of hypothermia and malnutrition. After being nursed back to health, and checking to make sure the youngster could hunt on it’s own, they had released the beast back into the wild. But one day out of the blue, Tala had found Scout back in her old stall in the stables. Clearly the griffin had done well on her own: fully grown, hale, healthy - and gravid, as they quickly discovered. After a few days, they found her nesting a single egg.

And that was how the lalafell found herself the foster-grandmother of a rambunctious youngster named Scooter, while also trying to train Scout to fly with a rider.

And while she was fond of them all, sometimes it was all just a little depressing. It felt like she’d failed them all, because of her inadequacies as a healer. But the price for her failure was their freedom. Although as Kory pointed out, it wasn’t as if the little beasts resented her less-than-perfect results.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she’d told the despondent healer. “They don’t care. They’re simple beasts. You gave them a chance at life, where they would have died. If they weren’t happy with their lot, they would have run away a long time ago. Even that runty lizard that bites everyone. You care, and they know it.”

Still, perhaps it was no wonder she’d been spending more time brandishing her sword than tending the wounded. Her confidence as a conjurer had definitely taken a few hits, here and there. At least when she made mistakes in a sword fight, she and she alone was the one to suffer for them.

Usually, anyway.

Tala shook away her stray thoughts when she saw Kalen reach for more owl-treats, and stood on her chair to block his hand with an irritated grumble. Before she could launch into another lecture, a soft cough interrupted her. She looked up to an unfamiliar face.

“Miss Tahl?” the young conjurer asked, uncertainly.

Tala winced at the use the name, and nodded reluctantly, steadfastly ignoring the curious look Kalen shot her. “Yes?”

He looked relieved. “I’m glad to have caught you. Brother E-Sumi-Yan has asked to speak with you.”

Tala blinked, surprised. “Of course. Please tell the Guildmaster ‘m on my way, an’ will be there shortly.”

The youngster nodded, and hurried out the door. She watched him go, then turned to Kalen to make her apologies. The miquo’te was cuddling a very sleepy-looking Rowley. She sighed, reluctant to wake the tired avian, but her friend waved her off.

“Go, Tala, I can watch this little one for a while.”

“Thankee, Kalen. If he gets ta be too much, ya can drop ‘im off at th’ Brat headquarters,” she offered, while discreetly leaving a pouch of Rowley-supplies, just in case. “Horatio knows how ta care fer him.”

He nodded at her, as she made her own way out, headed for the Conjurer’s Guild. __________

A.N. - Thank you to Kalen for permission to use his characters in my story!

#Final Fantasy XIV #Talathar Khalynn #Gilgamesh #Gilgamesh-RP #Fanfiction