#baronyofthesilverwolf

"Is that so?" The Baron gives Thistle... and Muppet... an appraising look both.

Thistle bites on her lip, spirals back to her anxious yellow. "No, hey, Frankie, if Muppet goes with you I'd get to visit him!"

Muppet sits, turning towards Thistle, and gives a very rare 'BARK'!

"I see." The Baron nods. To Thistle, he remarks, "It is clear as day that he has chosen you. These terriers are loyal to a fault. While I could force the issue... no. An unhappy beast is not a fit boon. Mischka!"

This last, a clear command, over to his massive Ovcharka dam, who shuffles to her feet.

Janice is nervous, she wrings her hands. "Lord, he's just a boy, he means no offense.."

"I didn't mean to ruin him! He just.. he was hanging around the studio, I got used to him..." As she gets agitated, the Nevers do too - there's an echo of chimes! in the background.

Baron Aiden taps his fingers against his leg in a way that, to Nadeen or another who knows him well, might hint at irritation. Perhaps not to the Fledge and guests, but Linnea notices, and clears her throat loudly.

"Thistle, try to calm your friends." The Thane advises.

From behind Mischka comes a smaller lump, a faded white like a snow-dusted mountain... or a powdered sugar donut, gambols forward to jump and play, chasing the lights of the spinning and agitated Nevers.

"*&^%&..." She tries to do a bunch of things at once - reassure Muppet, hug Frankie, collect the noisy Nevers - and doesn't quite succeed at any of them.

As a smaller than most, but still pretty big for a puppy, dog barrels around, Thistle is bumped into, but NOT knocked Arse over Teakettle!

Muppet is whoofing up at Thistle, Glass cannot resist and comes over to play with the puppy in a game of Never-Chase, and Frankie is DELIGHTED. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FLUFFY!"

Janice looks mortified! Linnea rolls her eyes to the sky.

"&^%$... *&^%%... *&&$$$!"

"Am I missing a party?" A new voice pops up! Arty has approached, and is tentatively watching the nevers fly around like crazy. "Uh, Thistle? Do you want me to try The Voice on them or something?"

"I furked up!" Her confession slips out, tangled with guilt, in response to Art's question.

"That is Quite Enough." Aiden says. His voice is deceptively calm, but it carries a weight with it as he speaks, and a Protocol flows over the kennel yard. The dogs all immediately plop their butts to the ground, and the fluffy donut pup that has been running circles around actually rolls over and shows her tummy. Frankie ALSO plops his butt to the ground, and Janice sinks into a curtsey, head lowered.

The key word, it seems, is "Behave."

Thistle shrinks and looks down at her feet. Her spirals can't decide if they want to be blue or yellow, and they settle into an ugly, muddy greyish-green.

Art says softly, "Oh." Impressed at the immediate behaviour of the dogs. So that is how it's SUPPOSED to work.

The Neverlanders all drop from the sky, taking up perches on Thistle's shoulders, arms, and head. One also lights atop the tip of Muppet's nose. The glennie turns a little cross-eyed trying to look at Citrine.

Protocol keeps her fidgeting to a minimum, but she's tense.

Baron Aiden approaches, "Thistle, I am not ired at you. Glen of Imaal's are independent souls, and as you said, you did not court his attention, but he chose you all the same. Rather, this helps me resolve a rather irritating situation to my own benefit. Be at ease."

The protocol lessens on Thistle, though the Never still are very polite.

Frankie pipes up, a touch sullen though polite, and adds, "Good, because no one gets to yell at Trina." Puffing up his tiny chest.

She looks up, uncertain but the spirals are retreating to a more neutral color. She swallows and nods.

The Baron crouches, and pats his knee. The pup that had rolled over - female, it looks like - sheepishly creeps over to him, and Aiden places a hand on her head.

"This is Hithaeglir, named for the Misty Mountains. She is the smallest, and the most shy of the litter. Originally meant to be sent to our Aesin allies along with Ered Nimrais, she was rejected by their Volva as...insufficient for their needs."

The pup's tail tucks a bit, looking forlorn, as though she understands that she was found wanting.

"They sought hearty and aggressive beasts to patrol their trods. Hithaeglir is smaller, and... friendly, rather than properly standoffish as a patrol dog must be."

Frankie doesn't comprehend the nuances of all of this, but reaches out to pat the pup, whose ears perk up a bit. "She seems awful nice to me, Mister Baron."

"Oh." Realization.

The Baron's expression turns annoyed, "The Chieftain from Rivervale added a clause to her breeding contract for this litter's sire, that if any progeny did not live up to Silverwolf standards, we would be obligated to release it to their care."

He continues, "HowEVER, it seems that the requirements for this specific placement may be altered."

"A... a guardian for a child has different specs than one for a trod, right? So that's.. different standards, ain't it? But still Silverwolf ones."

A smile from the Baron. "Precisely. Hithaeglir is STILL a dog of Silverwolf lines, and will be a fitting guardian for your kin. She will do well as a family companion as well, and gentle enough for children. I understand that his homestead includes a large manor and fenced in yard."

He looks to Frankie, "That is, if you will have her?"

"A huge yard, yeah."

Frankie reaches over and has grabbed the pup and pulled her into a hug! Hithaeglir wriggles and licks his face. "I'm gonna call her Misty!"

Mischka looks a bit mortified.

Thistle smiles.

"That is settled then." Aiden nods. "And as for Liberty’s Aengus..." Citrine sits up, "CHIME!" "Ah, Muppet." He considers.

Tense shoulders, yellow spirals, and Thistle looks away.

"The Glen of Imaal breed is renowned for many things. Above all, they are unflaggingly Loyal. I would not punish him for that trait."

His voice gentled. "They are small, and tidy dogs. They do not bark. If any dog is suited to apartment life, such is he. Muppet has chosen you."

Aiden straightens up. "I will task you to add an appropriate sidecar to your vehicle that he may travel in safety when he accompanies you."

Linnea remarks, "The pup could just stay here, but you don't see how he stares down the road after you leave, Thistle."

"I..."

"I'd have to ask my Mom..."

Speaking of moms, Janice looks a little blindsided by the giant puppy that Frankie is now introducing to her, but she does not argue.

Aiden nods. "If you wish. Should she disagree, one of us can visit to convince her as needed."

Matter of factly.

Art exclaims, "Gee! You got a dog! Everyone gets a dog!" Amused.

Ivan has been a bit sulky, Gwen left him behind, but he turns to witness this and wags a bit. A knowing 'wise uncle' kind of loook to Misty. She'll do very well. And he knows she's a guardian if a gentle one

"Well, the new landlord allows pets."

"Let's take Misty home, I want to show her my bedroom, and the yard, and..." Frankie is so thrilled, that even a magical wonderland does not compare to HIS PUP right now.

"By your leave, my Lord." Janice asks, and nudges Frankie - then a second time, before he realizes and gives the Baron a gap-toothed grin. "Thank you! I'll love her forEVER!"

Aiden nods, and Linnea moves to escort them back to their car.

Thistle flashes a smile at Janice.

Ivan catches a scent. Something that does not belong here. A hint of something unpleasant and foreign, and a tingle that he recognizes as magic-tinge to it. It feels off, like when someone rubs his fur the wrong way.

Mischka stands, and turns to face into a direction off into the woods. She growls.

Several of the Glennies have also come to attention, ears pricked.

Linnea and her escortees have vanished down the trail, but they are headed back towards the manor, and this.. whatever it is? Is off further into the trails.

"...Muppet?"

A growl and he starts to move that way

Art asks, "What's got the beasts all riled up?"

Thistle realizes that several of the nevers have vanished, flown and flitted off to wherever it is they come from. One clings to her, burying it's face in her collar.

Ivan is indeed a bristle.

"Something's wrong. Nevers have a sense for trouble, as fluff-headed as they are."

Dee, at the stables, notices that the horses are on alert. Snowthorn tosses his mane and whinnies, and the mares nicker and fidget.

"Easy, Snowthorn. " She calls out "Thanes?"