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 Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 11:06 pm
Please be respectful to both "pet" and owner when posting within this thread. Failure to do otherwise may result in you and your posts being reported to the administrators as well as going on DeMoNtAiNtEd's Celibate List.
Thank you for your time. 
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 11:07 pm
He was caught, chest tight like a ticking bomb, ready to explode. Caught between wanting to run and being unable to move. That heart-stopping fear that sets in. they say there is a fight or flight instinct for dealing with these kinds of situations. They’re liars.
“Take it and pass it to us, do it or I will shoot you.” The words seem so distant, like they are spoken to someone else, someone far away.
His throat is dry, hands shaking, body unwilling to move, yet unable to resist the commands. He wants to run, to escape, to… oh god, not to touch that thing…
His eyes squeeze shut, his fingers- the softest caress of fur.
The bubble pops and he feels it, sudden weight, pulling him forward, forcing him to… oh god… oh god… oh…
“Don’t drop it now!”
He is holding it, this thing; it’s heavy, real, and… not what he thought it would be. The fur is so soft it’s almost silken, the nose twitches and the eyes open, staring directly up into his.
“Now give it to me.”
Those confused red eyes flare, something glittering in the depths of its mind. It opens its mouth and coughs. Soft fingers reach up, grasping for long, silky strands of black hair.
“I said give it to me.”
The flare again, it frowns and squirms in his arms, flopping helplessly to sit up and find the sound that disturbs their perfect moment.
It focuses on the other creature, and then, still with that adorable, soft mouth, it growls low and deep.
“What the hell is it doing? Is it awake? What did you do?”
The gunshot makes him flinch, his grip on the small thing tightens in anticipation of pain, but there is no pain, only warmth.
It makes another sound, something like a baby’s babble and turns back to him, fingers reaching for his hair.
They are alone, in the quiet, silent woods. Flames lick at the nearby trees, slowly, as quiet red eyes close, the flames vanish.
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Posted: Fri Mar 16, 2007 11:09 pm
Jayl held the cup out of the grasping finger’s reach. “No, this is for adults.”
“Mine, mine!” came the pitiful whimper.
“No, not yours.”
“Mine?”
“No. Jayl’s. this is Jayl’s. Not Kian’s.”
A quiver of a whisker signalled the beginning of the tactician’s plan to acquire the item in question. “Mine, see!”
“Nothing to see.” Came the reply from the castle defences.
Again, the hands reached, only to find that their lack of length failed to acquire the cup. Just because Jayl was drinking it, meant that logically Kian would like it too. The little rabbit had learnt early that Jayl ate good things, and knew the difference between good game animals and bad game animals. Barely a week had passed and the little rabbit had already been named, a sign that would surely lead to Jayl’s attachment to the creature.
Jayl pushed the hands away and drank the contents of the cup in one long swig that he was sure to regret later. He relinquished the cup to the hands only then and sighed as the little one tried to get whatever was left. Nothing but a single droplet. Kian’s whiskers twitched threateningly.
“You have your juice, I have mine.”
“Want juice!” Kian’s voice began to rise, whiskers shifting violently.
“Then have yours.”
“Want Jayl-juice!”
“No. Jayl’s juice is adult juice.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“No! No! No!”
“Have some more meat.”
The roasted chicken leg barely even made it off the bird before it was snatched from his hands. Feeding the little monster was the best way to shut him up, Jayl had discovered. They had been journeying for days, lost deep in the recesses of the forest with no sense of direction to share between them. Jayl had been dragged in deeply by his ‘employer’ and hadn’t been paying much attention to scenery so much as the intense pulse of evil that had brought the ‘mage’ to such a place. There was a great deal of power in this forest, and Jayl was sensitive to evil aura. He had never felt such intensity than from the strange cocoon that the little rabbit had been in. but now, with the sweet little child sitting on his lap and getting food everywhere, he wondered if it had just been his imagination.
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