#rivervale_lodge

Connor is normally fairly shy around the horses. He likes to watch them, but Stormwake is VERY BIG and Star seems a little high-strung, so he mostly just likes to sit at times and watch them trot around.

Today however he has showed up with an armful of treats - a bag of apples and one of carrots, and he is setting them out in a line on the top rail of the fence.

It is hard to miss the 9-foot-something troll and he generally does not try for stealth. That is a younger troll's game. Frank's boots announce him, crunching on the gravel of the path as he approaches.

Connor turns around, and waves at Frank. He sets the treats down and waits for the large man to join him. "Good morning. Did you get breakfast? I have crunchy fruits if you want some."

"I have eaten, Connor, thank you." He rumbles as he rests gently his arms against the top rail. "What brings you out here?"

"My feet." He gives Frank a tentative grin, and indeed, wriggles his bare toes. "I like how they crackle in the leaves and the ground is nice and cool. Soon it will be snow and boots and my toes will be trapped away all Winter. The ponies wear shoes all the time though."

Frank nods.

He lets there be a few moments of quiet.

"Dagmar likes the horses." He comments, leaning on the fence - several rungs below Frank.

He nods. "She does. Do you?"

He ponders this for a few moments. "They are Very Big. But most things are very big to me. I like to watch them run. And sometimes Stormy let's me pat his neck. I wanted to make a flower-chain for Star, but she dances away when I get close. I think maybe she doesn't like flowers."

"Perhaps." Another moment. "Connor, I have a question. It is personal. May I ask?"

"Of course. But sometimes answers just make more questions, even when I try hard." He admits, a bit sheepishly.

A gentle smile behind his beard. "Just do the best you can."

"I would like to talk about Lord Lowell's visit."

"Oh." He looks down for a moment, then back up, and climbs up the fence to the paddock so that he can sit on the top rail. Still a good foot or two shorter than Frank's height, but closer. "Okay?"

"Yes."

"Connor, how old are you?"

He blinks, and looks a bit perplexed. He ponders this question for a long moment. "Matthais would say, 'As old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth.' I like that answer. But that's his answer. Um." He doesn't appear to be trying to think of a reply, so much as not sure of the answer. "The last birthday party I had was seven. That was right before my ears grew in. After that, there weren't any candles to tell me."

"I am sorry for that, Conner, and I am glad you are here now. Do you remember your Sainday?"

He ponders on that too, forehead wrinkling as he thinks. "We didn't have a party. But we also didn't have any mean things show up like Gerd did. So it was... good?" He fidgets, and adds apologetically, "I don't remember. It was a long time ago. Before I came here, and before I went to stay with Matthais. Before the place with the gloves, when I made all of the bunnies sad. And before the farm I didn't like, so way-way before the farm I do like." He tries counting on his fingers. "Rivervale winter, Matthais Winter, Bunny Winter, and fun-place-winter. Farm winter, and Sain Winter. Lots of Winters ago."

"Six?"

"Ish?"

Frank's great shaggy head nods. "Have you ever had a Togail?"

His nose wrinkles up a bit and he grins up at Frank. "No, you get those when you get -old-. I'm just a pup!"

A kind, fond expression. "Something Lord Lowell said started me thinking, Connor. I do not wish you to change who you are.... but is it possible you should think about it?"

His head tilts to one side, ears flopping that direction. "About what?"

"Well. As I count it, from what you have said and what he suggested, I think you might be 14 or 15 years old."

His legs dangle and he kicks them absently for a bit. "That sounds like a lot. An awful lot in dog years."

Frank scratches his chin. "That is what I thought, too."

"Do I have to?" He asks. "I -like- it like this. I like being a pup. And people like puppies... Am I doing something wrong? Am -I- wrong?"

"No, Connor. We like you very much. You are not wrong. We love you just like you are and if you decide to take that step we will still love you."

"I don't know how. I just -am-, you know? Is that okay?" He tugs at an ear, fidgety.

Frank nods. "It is. As long as it is healthy."

"Do you remember Vali's Togail?"

"I remember Gerd's. There were monsters."

"Sometimes that happens." Frank agrees. "Do you remember how Gred was before the Togail?"

"Gerd is Gerd...." He says, uncertainly. "She wears more dark stuff now, and lace, and I'm not 'posed to touch her tea party."

Frank nods, listening.

"She was a little... itchy." He says reluctantly, not wanting to talk poorly of her sister. "Like her collar was on too tight and you just can't scratch it right."

"Do you ever feel that way?"

He scratches at an ear. "No, not unless I need a bath. Mostly I'm just me." A sudden wary look up at Frank. "I do not feel that way now."

"Ok." Nodding, accepting.

"The ladies here SURE are bullish on baths. "Connor, you went in the mud. Connor, you fell in the lake. Connor, it's been three days." A long suffering tone. "At least they don't use the hose! Do YOU have to take so many baths? Or can you run away on your truck and just adventure for days and days without chores or baths?" A bit in awe at this idea.

"I like being clean." Frank admits this failing.

"Oh. Well, that's okay. I still like you, even if you don't play in the mud." A sigh. "Gerd doesn't play in the mud much now. I guess it's so her fancy laces don't get dirty. But black doesn't show dirt as much..."

A small frown. "I think I got my sister in trouble." He sounds guilty, and his ears droop a bit.

"Sometimes after you accept a Togail, you develop new interests, or find new ways to enjoy old ones." Frank observes. "Why do you think that?"

He fidgets with the hem of his hoodie, legs kicking idly. "I don't like it when people fight. And turn mean voices on. I wurn't involved, I was just... helping inventory the cookies? But it startled me cuz I was hiding see - you have to go where they are hidden to inventory them right, otherwise you miss some." Oh, Miss Kerri may need to know that some of her hiding spots are no longer secret.

"And then there was a BANG and I noped out of there, zip-zip-zip. But later Gerd had a Talking To." A sad face - getting scolded is apparently the worst thing that can happen.

Frank nods. "I know." Gently.

"This time of year can be difficult."

"And Dagmar got a talking to, too." His ears droop more. "And she's already sad because she's getting replaced."