Pens and Blankets
Every muscle in Thom's body ached, but none more than his head. He had been struggling with what he would say to Mairy through the entire trek home. The weather had been mild, unseasonably warm and at any other time he might have lingered in the wood a bit just to enjoy the time and watch the hounds at chase. But not this time. He had to go home and put the meat up to smoke. He had to go home and complete the tasks necessary to make sure that everything was prepared and set to rights for the upcoming winter. He had to go home and face the look in his wife's eyes when the sparkle of joy at seeing him safe and whole faded as she realized he had not come back with all that he had set out with. How had those hounds gotten so tangled up in their lives so quickly? It was as if they had met travelers on the road and taken them in, making them part of their family, and now their sudden absence left a hole where there presence had been. He could not account for it. He only knew that their absence would be felt, most assuredly that of Conn's. He could picture the blond following Mairy about the kitchen, his bulk somehow managing to find a fit in the small space. Her hand idly moving to scatch him around the ears as she sat near the fire. Her piercing gaze as he told her that the hound would be going with him, despite her attachment to him. And now he was coming home without him.
He gave some brief thought to Cait and the reaction the she-hound might have on not seeing Coll. The two had surely acted oddly around each other, almost as if they had truly mated and not just rutted. Of course, now that he had seen with his own eyes the two hounds breaking apart into light and disappearing, well, now he understood a bit better why they were so odd. The two were definitely touched by the Fey. Aye, that much was clear. Would Cait's pups bear a Fey taint as well? Was this a good or bad thing? He thought perhaps he might have to take the pups and leave them to their own devices as soon as they were able. He couldna take their lives, but it did not seem prudent to keep to Fey creatures living with his own. Yet Conn and Coll had not proven a burden. His mind turned and twisted as he strode on, coming to no conclusions and causing havoc with the pain that was gaining steadily there.
They stopped twice to make camp for the evening, getting up near dawn to press on. Thom knew he was setting a hard pace but the hounds could take it, and he felt driven to set down his burden at his wife's feet. It was close on twilight when they made it to the edge of their land. The hounds charged ahead baying as they made their way toward home. It was clear their spirits were not as dampened as his own. He rounded his way down the path and around to the pen, opening it and filling the water trough, then putting fodder out for the pack. Mairy would, no doubt, come out later and give them each a biscuit and a scratch for their hard work. He made sure the meat was tied down tight and covered securely before he made his way to the cottage door. It hit him then that neither Mairy nor Cait had come to greet them on arrival, and his worry over explanations evaporated as his worry over their state peaked. He practically charged through the door, yelling Mairy's name as he did so.
He pulled himself to an abrupt halt when he saw them. Mairy lay on the floor curled around the hound's back. Cait lay, slightly curled, but with her legs distended, pointing toward the hearth, where the fire had burned out. They were clearly sleeping. Two forms began to wriggle between Cait's legs. He thought they must be the pups, but they were uncannily large. He moved a bit closer as the two pups reared their heads back just enought to eyeball him. He stopped to stare. Cait had gone and had herself wee visions of the hounds he'd just seen vanish into colored bits of light. He scratched his chin where the beard had set in a full growth during the hunt. He would definitely need to discuss the issue of Fey creatures with Maire. But he ken he would likely lose the battle with a wee-Conn settled by the fire.
He moved over softtly and knelt to run a hand through his wife's hair. 'Twas not too much to ask, he thought. Mairy could keep the pups, and he in turn would be keeping his Mairy.
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