Beards and Blinds
Ian and Sean had a relatively easy time chasing down the two squirrels that they carried back in the direction of the human's camp. It was not hard to find given the stench of the man and the loud racket he was making. He was obviously calling his pack to him. He seemed to have gotten most of them in, as over the last few paces what they could hear was a single name being repeated. "Cait, Cait, here lass, here," cried the man in his rough voice. Sean broke through to the small clearing just in time to see his she-hound come bounding through the trees on the other side, obviously answering the man's call.
He proudly stepped out after her, his prize dangling from his jaws. If he had bothered to look at the other hounds, he might have noticed that they looked rather perplexed by what he was doing. But he only had eyes for "Cait" and so he did not fathom how silly he looked until he found himself next to her. Standing there proudly offering his gift of food, he was forced to notice the glint of blood in the fur of her chin and the sated look in her eye. She had hunted on her own and clearly did not need his help in taking care of her. Suddenly the bravado went out of him. He did not quite know what to do with the squirrel hanging there in his mouth. Should he give it to the man? Ian jostled him in the shoulder, moving him aside just barely. He looked Cait in the eye and then with almost a courtly bow laid his offering at her feet. She nodded at him with what could almost have been taken as a smile, then she turned her gaze on Sean. He stood a bit more firmly and bowed toward her as gracefully as he could manage, putting his offering on top of Ian's. Staring her directly in the eye he backed off just two steps and waited.
Cait was full to bursting but something told her that eating these squirrels was very necessary. She lowered herself slowly and neatly in front of the offerings and put herself to the task. The human watched humorlessly. He was greatly confused. He had never seen hounds act in this fashion before. He thought back over the last few hours. First had been the strange fight with the young pup facing his best hound and winning in what looked strangely like a modern wrestling move. All this was made stranger still by the fact that the other hound had not made a challenge at all. In fact, that one had gone to check the injured one. Following that had been the incredible actions of the pack in the burial of the old hound. That in itself had seemed like a moment with the Tuatha de Denaan. It was as if the Fair Folk had stepped out of the old world and were influencing these hounds. And here they were again, bringing food back to a perfectly healthy she-hound as if she needed to be cared for and protected like an honored mate. That last thought took him by surprise. "Could that be it?" he wondered. "Was the young pup trying to care for his new mate?" Running this around his mind gave the man a new idea. It was very possible that this was somehow true. That being the potential case, these two hounds were now basically his. It was clear the younger one could fight and the older one could lead; perhaps between the two of them they made up for the loss of the one he had just put down.
He walked over to the grey and lifted its chin.
Sean smelled the human approaching. He stood as still as he could. When the man touched him, it felt neither right, nor totally wrong, just somehow very odd. He let him lift his chin with only a bit of a struggle. He found himself staring back into a pair of strong brown eyes. Eyes, he imagined, that were almost the color of his own, or would be if he were still human. "Coll," said the man. "Ye' I think I will call this, as I remember the old roots, this has something to do with children or being young, and ye' remind me of youth. Will ye be answering to this I wonder?" Sean just stared at him. It did not matter what he called him, he had but one name and the man would not ever know it.
The man turned to Ian next. He dropped to a squat in front of the blond hound. He did not even try to touch him. He just stared into the blue eyes. "Ye' will have to be named after someone wise. I'm after thinkin' we should call you Conn. Aye, that's the name for a proud hound such as ye'." Ian looked at him for a moment and then moved over to sit with Sean. "Vera well then," the man waved to the pack, "Welcome Coll and Conn to our little group and off we go. We've a far trek ahead if we plan to have our suppers at home instead of in the wood this evenin'."
He turned and picked up his pack and his gun, then set his fingers in his mouth and gave a short whistle. The hounds gathered round him in what may have been order for them but looked like chaos to Ian and Sean. Without glancing back to see if "Conn and Coll" were with him or not, the man strode off.
Ian and Sean sat together in silence for a minute or two. Then, as if by mutual consent, they rose and followed their noses in the direction the man had gone, careful to stay just out of sight.
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