#baronyofthesilverwolf

The atmosphere at SilverWolf is.... edgy. The spectre of an unknown thief and possible saboteur looms over the Hold as an ominous possibility, and Calanthe stalks the halls, radiating anger as a very real presence.

The Baron is clearly bothered by something, even though he does not appear in the least approachable to ask what. His expression stormy, and no rays of Sun present currently to cut through the clouds.

A brief reprieve is provided by the Glen of Imaal Terriers- "You mean those mutts actually DO have a pedigree?", and Aiden retreats to the sanctuary of the Kennels to see to them.

Within the Hold, anxiety seems to be getting to everyone's nerves. Marigold's steady hands shatter a cream pitcher that she was sure she wasn't anywhere near knocking into. Bluebell jumps at shadows. Even the usually steadfast Julius reports chills often enough that he is ordered to bed, lest he be catching a fever.

And Gwen returns , her time with Sir Ivory over.

Unaware she's entering quite the tense area

Linnea greets Gwen to give her a quiet update as to the status.

"We are on alert - inside and out. Were it up to me, I would have you remain with Sir Ivory until this is resolved. Yet, I do not believe you would welcome such nursemaiding."

"I would not" Gwen's back straightens at the notion, "This is my home. These are my people. We have new dogs? the least I can do is tend to them and see how well trained they are. And if I happen to have a spear ready in case some one eyed thief shows up? All the better"

Linnea lets a hint of a smile show through. "I admit, it will be a relief to know that the hounds are protected by your spear." And our Fledge protected by a pack of loyal hounds, she adds internally.

"Walk with me. I would hear of your time with Sir Ivory. It is important to have experience in... more traditionally-run noble seats as well as in our own. What knowledge is your takeaway from EarthRunes?"

She blushes "Well uhm" Suddenly a bit shy "It's a Fiona hold? They're all very brave ,and there's also a sense of... uhm... progressive attitudes regarding romances and... just about everything else. It's still a noble hold, and I learned more about etiquette and polish, and some stuff that seemed a bit over the top, but it is an amazing place. Unfortunately I came at a time when the ruler was very busy. So I only saw her briefly, doubt she'd remember me if she saw me, but the other knights and such there were kind. Their kennels are really good, not as good as ours though" pride

"It occurs to me that it may have been a good idea to spend a bit of your Fledgehood learning from a Troll Lodge. We could have sent you to DarkGate for an apprenticeship, or at least a workstudy." Her brow furrows a bit. "It is rather too late for that as part of your fledge training, now."

"I don't feel neglected when it comes to learning what it is to be a troll" Gwen assures her, "As it stands, I've had fine examples. Also I have visited Darkgate a bit. I know about Hearths, Mountains, and Storms. I'm sure what part I'd be serving under if I were at such a lodge. I suppose I'd lean Storm?

"

"A fine choice." She says.

They arrive at the kennels, where Lord Aiden is already present, carefully giving each of the new dogs a looking over.

He is very intent in his work, taking notes and making a study of them.

"My lord," And Gwen bows, more smoothly and more confidently than she would have before. It would appear she's learned some improved nicities , "I've returned. I thought I would assist with the new dogs and old getting along?"

Linnea bows, and excuses herself to return to patrol.

Aiden, on his knees and measuring the height of one of the male terriers, is not exactly the picture of nobility suiting her improved formality!

For his part, AIden has learned more than mortal research would know. These were dogs in Old Hiberina, and the owner of the dogs died ...the estate was in a scramble. The fact she was a Sidhe noble means the loss was tragic

No doubt the dogs were stolen, but the estate would part with them anyway. They might be bought legally for a song if he wishes. ]

Gwen waits patiently to see if he replies

He does, after a moment. "Ah, Gwen. You are just in time to assist me with the new arrivals. Come, take a look at this fine fellow here."

After a moment, he does realize, and smiles, nodding at her greeting.

Not completely oblivious, just distracted...

She moves to them, they're not her usual breed to work with but she has developed an eye, and she runs her fingers over the male introduced "Well well.. hey, under that scruff, he's got good lines. This is a fit little blueblood under a rough exterior"

Aiden settles back on his haunches. "What potential issues do you see with integrating these Irish fellows with our pack?"

"I don't the breed well enough, baron, their temperment, Terriers are, well, they're pretty sure it's their world, we're just living in it and I hope one of our Bear Dogs doesn't have to nip one into realizing reality." A pause and she tilts her head "they're not barking as much as I thought they would"

"Sometimes, it is the most obvious things that elude us as we delve into details."

He takes a step back, brushing off his knees, and smiles. "Call Ivan over, if you please?"

She calls "Ivan, come"

Ivan immediately bounds towards the sound of his mistresses' voice for he is loyal

"Fort, attend." Aiden calls, and the Wolfhound also gallops over. Aiden settles them both in place, alongside the Terrier.

"Do you see?" A small smile.

The new bonny lad could, should he wish, nearly walk UNDERNEATH Ivan, and easily under Fort.

She strokes Ivan, a calming stroke. he's less agressive than some of his packmates, but still

Aiden looks to Gwen for feedback.

"I see.. we have a hieracrhy of height here... you know, we ARE lacking in terrier breeds"

He nods in approval.

"If they were simple minded mortal curs, I would have much concern about determination of pack heirarchy. Even amongst our fine Fae hounds, one must take care in introduction, when a small misunderstanding may, due to simple physics in size and physical power, end in disastrous consequences."

"They're fae hounds?" A look over again, kenning "Oh wow!" She gets excited "It's like a gift from Da'an"

"Indeed. It must have been fate to lead Calanthe to Scarsdale and to find these dogs." For some reason, this makes him look ill at ease, rather than pleased.

"Dame Calanthe? I didn't htink she even liked dogs" a pause, and she reaches into pull out her phone and does a quick search "Glen of Imaal, says they're quieter and more reserved than some terriers, but still have a strong prey drive, good hunters" A look at her lord "We'll want ot warn bluebell not to take rabbit form near them. " Another pause "Baron, you look troubled. Why? you're great with dogs, the best in apples"

Even better, she suspects, with horses, but she'll stand by her praise

"Such favor is a boon to Silverwolf, to be certain. And yet, I mislike Fate's eye upon us, be it for good or ill."

A bite of her lip, then "it's possible fate's a bit busy to keep its eye on any hold, even one as wonderful as this; for too long. Perhaps this was more of a drive by gifting to make up for the troubles? Balance?"

He considers this, and gives Gwen a small smile. "Perhaps. Now. Let's run these fellows through there paces."

Aiden gives Gwen a background on the new pups - that they have a form of congenital dwarfism, yet they have been well-bred to accommodate for the body shape and actually suffer less from issues with back, hips and knees than many other low-slung breeds.

He eyes their tails - have they been docked?

They have not

whether neglected or deliberately chosen as such he cannot say

Gwen tries not to show too much affection for the dogs while Ivan is watching, but she really can't help herself. Likely she'll have a favorite within a week, but she's a fair hand regardless

"Gwen, give me your opinion on tail docking. I do not expect you to have an extensive knowledge as to the practice, but I wish to know your thoughts."

He shows with a hand outstretched, compared to a Showdog photo. "Traditionally this breed would be cropped to no longer than... here."

She looks over it, then she admits "While not as cruel as declawing a cat, different things involved, I've always found it needless, my lord. I mean, the history of the whole thing is almost a search for excuses. Romans thought cutting off the tail would help prevent rabies and maybe increase the speed. Then there were the puritans who thought the tails were demonically possssed," She rolls her eyes, "And of course, the economic reasons of working dogs not being taxed and non working dogs being taxed ...that was a man made situation."

His brows raise! She has surprised him with her knowledge, clearly.

"I am impressed. Have you been studying the kennelry arts?"

She blushes "History's my favorite subject so canine history doubly so. "A scratch of Ivan's head, "Don't get me wrong. I don't see dog shows as a waste as long as form never overrides health for a breed, sadly it has for many; I even LIKE dog shows because it's a chance to learn, and it helps keep some breeds from dying out. But dogs have been with man and fae for a long time. They deserve good friends and better keepers. Mortals fail at both I fear, far too often."