02.23.09 - Fluffy Problems

Location: Edge of Mossflower

Characters Involved: Darcy, Harper, Magramba, Crow

Finally they're traveling again. They left the village in the morning and have been on the move for a few hours. The trees are intermittent. Gradually it's gotten darker, the sky obscured by heavy, sluggish gray clouds, and a wind is picking up. Darcy pauses walking when a fat raindrop lands right on the top of her muzzle. She peers upward. It's hardly midday but the light suggests dusk. "Great."

This situation has not really improved Harper's mood. At all. Waking up with a hangover and an aching body is not a winning combination! He does not want to add cold and wet to the mix. His ears flick in response to Darcy's mutter, but that's all. He ain't bitin'.

The visit to the brewer's village seems to have left Magramba a little worse for the wear. His clothes have several new tears from the glass, and his face and arms have a nice crisscross of scratches from the flying shards. With a glance skywards, he pulls his hood up.

"Bugger. Bugger bugger," is what Darcy has to say about this. She reaches back, finds her hood, and tugs it up over her head, ears slicked back, head ducked. The trees rattle with an increase in wind and the rain starts, pattering down onto them.

Aw. /Aw/. You're kidding, right? Harper casts an eye skyward, frowning. "Thank you," he mutters. He doesn't even bother with his hood. It is a protest against the futility of life.

Magramba gathers his effects about him against the wind and the rain. "The good news is..." Huh. Nothing's coming to mind.

And it only gets worse. The wind picks up, sweeping across the more open areas of the terrain. There are just enough trees to rattle and clatter, bare branches swaying heavily - but they offer no cover. It takes the space of a few minutes for the previously overcast weather to become absolutely hellish. It's a downpour, almost straight down, and the sky blackens out, except for a sudden zigzag streak of lightning across it, followed closely by thunder. Darcy has to hold her hood to keep it from being blown back off her head.

"Well there could be a flash flood," Harper reasons. "And then - nothing. Think about it. The appeal. Nothing?" Yeah. No barfights, no drugging, nooo... what else? Oh yeah. NO SPIDERS. He's kind of having to shout to be heard.

"Ever heard the phrase," Magramba calls, "Something's better than nothing?" A branch falls from a tree above and crashes to the ground nearby. "...Are we cursed?"

"Obviously," Darcy remarks. "/Obviously/ we are." Her voice is a mutter, they may not even hear it. She tugs her satchel in close to her belly, and attempt to keep it somewhat dry. There are certain contents that she would like to not have to wring out, thanks. "Harp? Know of anywhere nearby?" This is shouted toward him.

Harper shakes his head, but betting that she can't see that in all this downpour, speaks up. "No! Just gonna have t'find an overhang or somethin'!"

Magramba nods, head swiveling to peer into the darkness for such a shelter.

This might just be an omen of some sort. Nature is telling them to turn back and probably has been for a good while now. Who knows. Either way, something else seems to be doing the opposite at the moment. Through the barren trees comes the sound of something else, a screeching mewl of unhappiness that repeats itself as if calling out desperately for something. It is swept away by the wind and drowned out by the thunder and violent patter of rain, but sometimes the sound rushes at them as if carried on the gale.

Darcy makes a face. "Great. /Great/." She hunkers, trudging onward. The hood is swept off and she just doesn't bother - so very soon the doe's short hair is wet, plastered across her forehead. She's soaked. Rainwater slides in rivulets over the drenched doe as thunder booms nearby, and then her ears angle upward. "Hey. Hey, you hear that?"

Is it possible that he could not? It sounds like a dying banshee. "... Yeah." His paws come up to shield his eyes and he scans their surroundings, what good that does.

Magramba perks his ears, swiveling them side to side like a set of radar receivers. "Ordinarily, I'd offer to climb up and look, but for some reason," the squirrel casts his eyes upward. "I don't think that's a good plan right now."

Darcy's attention is diverted from the quest for shelter, and she veers off away from the others, aimed at a slight angle, into the trees, picking her way over slippery rain-wet rocks and earth as she follows the sound, toward its source. Some of her gait is just stumbling. "Just. Just stay there okay?" she calls back over her shoulder. "I'll be right back!"

"Well /that's/ a bad idea," Harper points out to Darcy's retreating form. And to Mag. And to anyone who will listen. "We should go after her." But he's not moving.

Magramba raises both eyebrows and looks at the Brother with unending pity. "There was a sale on spines back in town, you know." The squirrel takes off after Darcy.

Oh. Oh, Mag. Just because he sold you out on the dancing, that's no excuse! Harper scowls after the squirrel and trudges after. "

It must be the fact that Darcy is a doe and that somewhere - buried deep down inside of her - there is a mother. Possibly. The screaming cry is that of a distraught kitten, and no they don't sound the most pleasant when they are having a fit, especially when there is water involved. Off on his own, for lord knows why, Crow has settled in against the base of a tree just to try to keep away from the downpour that still splatters against his trembling form. The babe is rooted to the spot by this point, crying out for his mother and his fur fluffed out in defiance of the storm.

A few more stumbling steps, and Darcy finds the kitten. Her expression, one that mingles curiosity and annoyance, drops into something momentarily surprised and then quickly maternal. Oh yes, it's been triggered. She drops her satchel, and goes down on her knees. "Ohh, hey. Hey baby," she murmurs to the toddler, reaching carefully out, sliding her arms around him to pull Crow against her chest. "Hey... you're okay now.."

"... Huh." Harper has come to a halt and just kind of stares at the situation that has presented itself. The storming is forgotten, for the moment. Or at least shifts to the back burner.

It doesn't take the squirrel long to catch up with the doe, and he's there in time to see her lift a fuzzy mass in her arms. "What." Magramba steps onto a rock for a better view as he speaks. "Is that?"

This isn't his mother.. but she'll work as a suitable wind-block. As soon as the doe emerges from the darkness the little tabby turns his cry in her direction, sounding that much more pathetic now that he actually knows someone has come for him. Unfortunately Crow's claws are unsheathed like hooked daggers that - on a happier note - sink into Darcy's clothing instead of her bare flesh. He mewls out in a distressed manner, green eyes almost closed and blinking past the precipitation that spatters on his cheeks. The babe curls up tightly against the hare's chest, hanging helplessly in her embrace now with ears wilted and his long tail dangling heavily towards the ground.

Darcy stands, arms curled around the kitten. One is under his rump, holding the toddler up, the other around his back, hand cradling Crow's head. She ducks her muzzle over the top of his head protectively and shoots a glance off at Magramba when the question is voiced. "A kitten," she answers, and gives a low murmur of reassurance down at the toddler. Harper gets a quick look. "Now we /need/ to find shelter."

Maternal instinct doesn't exactly strike, but Harper does have some sort of protective instinct in him. He just. Turns and starts walkin'. Searching for something, anything.

Magramba sighs and almost watches as its ripped away by the wind. "Right, shelter." The squirrel follows Harper with his eyes as he sheds his cloak, and holds it out to Darcy. "Here."

"I think I see somethin'!" Harper calls back. He's gotten a little bit ahead. He's peering into the rain for a moment, then breaks into a jog. At a certain point he stops. "There's a /cave/!" Triumph.

Darcy holds Crow in one arm and takes the cloak, draping this around him and hugging him to her chest again after that. She gathers up her satchel and aims toward Harper, stepping carefully, one hand rubbing the boy's back in a reassuring manner while her head is ducked, muzzle to his ear, whispering soothing sounds.

Crow ducks his head to hide his face against the doe's collarbone and then is how he stays, puffing up further every time he gives a chilled shiver. The adults are allowed to seek out the cover of a cave as the toddler clings to Darcy like he might not willingly let go anytime soon.

Magramba carefully picks his way towards the cave, following behind Darcy. The rain is unrelenting without his cape. Luckily, the cushion and his other plunder are still encased in the thick-woven wallhanging. "Is it dry in there?"

Harper reappears at the foot of the cave, nodding. "Yeah," he grins widely. "It's dry."

"Good," Darcy mutters, heading past Harper and into the cave. It's not huge, but it's dry and they won't be cramped. She sits with her back to the wall, Crow cradled on her lap. "Mag? I need my cushion." The cloak is used like a towel, grasped in one hand to dab and stroke, drying the rainwater from Crow's hair and ears.

"What was he doin' out 'n' alone 'n' that?" Harper wonders aloud. He strips off his cloak and tunic, drapes them over a boulder.

Magramba steps into the cave, unslinging the massive pack from his back and dropping it inside, in Darcy's direction. He stands at the mouth of the cave, gazing out. "I'm going to get firewood. It'll need time to dry."

Snuffling sounds and little mewls still escape Crow as the hare goes about trying to dry him off. The green of his eyes glow through the dim lighting of the cave as he huffs in a tired manner and shivers at the same time, tail curling around his footpaws in an attempt to warm them.

"I don't know," Darcy mutters, working with gentle motions to dry the toddler. She shoots a glance at Harper. "Can you dig my cushion out of that? And do we have anything /dry/? This cloak is .. not working well."

Harper looks to Magramba, just nodding in response to him. He goes over to the squirrel's pack and starts to dig inside, pulling out a dry cloak. He tosses this Darcy's way, then yaaaaanks out the cushion. "I can't believe we're actually luggin' this," he says. He heads over Darcy-way with it.

Magramba glances back over. "Can I have my cloak back? The wet one will do."

Crow whimpers gently as he looks around the cave finally, ears flickering close to his dark hair. There is no one familiar here, though, to reassure the toddler that everything is alright. After a moment tears start to form in his eyes. The cat is tired.

Darcy tosses the wet cloak over to Magramba, and takes the dry one. She drapes this around Crow, rubbing it along his back, drying the kitten as much as she can. Then one hand lifts, pets back the little tabby's ears, and she murmurs softly to him, "Hey, shh, shhh. You're okay.. you're okay baby..."

Harper is watching Darcy and the cat with faint uncertainty. He hunkers down nearby, just watching for the moment.

Magramba wraps the cloak about himself once more and steps out into the rain. "If I don't come back," he says, stopping and turning. "don't look for me." With a laugh, the squirrel sweeps off into the storm.

Darcy is too focused on Crow to respond to Magramba's exit. She glances at him, then at Harper. The buck gets a faint smile. Crow is dryer but Darcy is still soaked and dripping. "Heh."

"Don't forget yourself," Harper points out. Then stands. He goes to sort through Mag's pack, looking for any supplies they'll need.

Darcy's brows lift a little. "Don't forget myself?" Her fingers scritch at the base of one of Crow's ears.

Despite the tears, Crow isn't necessarily crying. This means he's not sobbing but instead just hanging there in the redhead's arms, toes tucked together while his legs dangling against Darcy's inner thigh. He looks upset, definitely, eyes mostly closing and leaning somewhat now.

"Try t'get dry," Harper elaborates with a small shake of his head.

Blink. "Oh." Darcy shrugs a little, pushing her dripping bangs to the side, out of her eyes. "Yeah, I'll.. I'll get to that." Sometime. Maybe. She curls her arm around the kitten and continues the scritching, her own ears angled back, gaze hovering on Harper for a moment before twitching downward. "How old do you figure he is?"

The cat is sized up. "... Season, maybe? Two?" He pulls out a spare shirt of Magramba's and pulls it on. Heee won't mind. Next he walks over to Darcy, holds out his arms. "Give 'im to me. Dry yourself off or I'll have him /and/ you t'take care of."

Darcy exhales and smirks. She shifts on her knees and lifts the kitten up toward Harper. "If he'll let go even.."

The motion to try to pass Crow to Harper seems to go with a tugging of the female's clothing. The further the kitten is pushed away from the doe, the more he curls his claws into the fabric, huffing out his disapproval of the situation. Both of his ears swivel uncertainly as he gazes around him in a scared manner.

Darcy shakes her head at Harper, and brings Crow back in toward her chest. "Hah. Guess I'm staying wet."

Harper shakes his head determinedly, crouching down right in front of the pair. He gently inserts his arms around the kitten and attempts to lift him towards his chest. "Shh-shh, shh-shh, shh-shh," he croons softly. And to Darcy, "Help with 'is claws," he murmurs.

Darcy keeps one arm under Crow, holding him weight while the other hand grasps his nubby fingers, to gingerly unhook the claws from the fabric of her tunic.

Agh! What're they doing to him?! The feline huffs out a few times before mewling out unhappily, legs balling up so that his knees end up near to his chest and pressed to the arms around his body. Crow's tail has bristled out thickly and swats at the end while his claws are detached from their anchored positions one by one.

Finally the claws come free, and Darcy steps back - just a bit, making sure Harper has a good hold on the kitten before removing her hands entirely. ".. I'm soaked. My bones are waterlogged," she comments ruefully. Aaand she has no spare shirt, dammit, Garba!

Once the declawing is accomplished, Harper brings the kitten close against his chest. He opens the shirt - a button-up - and wraps the material around the small creature. Warmth! "Hey no, you're okay..." He glances up briefly at Darcy. "Check my pack. Spare cloak - should be big enough t'wrap around."

Little sobbing breaths shudder free from Crow's chest finally and he clutches at the hare's arm, which does not necessarily help in the act of trying to wrap him in the button up shirt with him. Luckily for Harper, the fact that he is no longer in the act of getting completely soaked - and he is being somewhat comforted - means that the kitten's claws don't sink into him. His muzzle ends up tucked near to buck's neck and he mews weakly.

Harper can't help it, he really can't. He smiles softly. His lips move near-silently, just the faintest sense of a lullaby whispered as he kind of sways. One step forward, one step back. One step forward, one step back. The parenting instinct comes back strong.

Darcy goes rummaging through Harper's pack, and finds the spare cloak. She pulls her tunic up over her head, back to Harper, shivering briefly and using the fairly drenched garment to mop more water off her. She bundles in the cloak, fastening it in the front, and heads back over, fingers scruffing into her wet hair - making it spike up. "I think he is .. the most adorable thing I've ever seen. Aren't you, hon?" She reaches, pets Crow's head with a little, little adoring smile.

Magramba steps back into the cave, shaking perspiration and precipitation from his fur. He's dragging a fallen limb behind him, most of the branches and small twigs still clinging to it. "I figure this should be enough," he says, letting it lie close to the entrance.

Harper is in the process of daddying Crow. He is swaying back and forth and rubbing the kitten's back, but he takes a moment to glance Magramba's way and has the good grace to look embarrassed. "Ah. Thanks, Mag."

Crow is lulled easily into a more settled state by the rocking motion and the whispered encouragements near to his wilted ears. The babe has curled tightly into his fluffy ball and the exhaustion of his previous upset is taking its toll. His eyes are mostly closed and he is quieter now, shivering still every so often.

Darcy crosses her arms, hugging the cloak around her. It's kind of odd as a replacement shirt, but it serves. Her head is tilted, eyes half-shut, watching Crow and the way Harper sways with the kitten in his hold. "I kind of want one," she says absently.

Magramba looks up from his accomplishment, noticing the things that are odd here instantly. "What are you doing?" This one is for Harper, and an amused look goes with it. Next is Darcy. "What's with the cloak?"

Okay, now /that/ interrupts Harper's rhythm. His eyes shoot Mag's way at Darcy's words. Widen a little bit. Heeee doesn't say anything for a moment, and then, defensively. "I'm makin' him /feel/ better, what?" And he turns his back to both of them, resuming the rocking. His ears are back.

Darcy gestures at her wet tunic, spread out on a spot of rock to dry. "Had no spare shirts. Harp took yours." She observes Harper's reaction with lifted brows, and her smirk looks /oh/ so smug and amused.

"So.... I thought ahead and brought extras, so now I'm the one who has to wear the wet stuff." Magramba steps farther in, and selects a rock to sit on.

For only a moment more is Crow awake, gazing curiously out from the buck's arms and the safety of the button up shirt, before closing his eyes completely. At first he is silent, cheek rested against Harper's collar bone and softer breaths escaping through his parted lips. It is after a few minutes of sleeping, though, that the purring begins, rumbling through him and reverberating into Harper's chest.

Darcy's expression looks like she's on the verge of just /melting/. "... oh my bloody. He. He's /purring/ Harp.."

Oh. That is. Not fair. Harper's eyes cut down at the sleeping, purring mass of cute. And narrow, gently. The /cute/. His shoulders hunch slightly, almost protectively. He doesn't turn around to face the others. He will lose his man license.

Darcy drifts over to the buck, stepping around him, putting herself in front of Harper and, very gently, resting one hand on his back. Her slim fingers are spread, feeling the warm vibration of purring through the fabric of Harper's shirt.

Magramba lets loose a sigh and allows his head to flop back against the stone of the cavern. "If you two could see yourselves." Mag is immune to cute.

Harper's eyes flicker briefly upward, catching Darcy's. And then his jaw sets and he looks away. "Maybe you should take him back now."

And thus it seems that Magramba has no soul. Crow's almost hidden within the folds of the shirt, except to the buck that holds him and is able to gaze down past the collar of the garment to look onto his little face. His purring is felt through the palm of the doe's hand as she settles it onto his back. One weak little sigh shudders out of the babe and he continues sleeping.

Darcy peers upward at the buck's face. "No, no I don't think so. Don't want to wake the babe up."

Harper's teeth grit. He. Looks away. Nods. "All right." But he suddenly doesn't want to be so close to the others. He shifts gently away from Darcy. Walks forward, to lean against the cave wall and look out into the rain. Far enough back that neither he or the little one will get wet, of course. Every now and then he glances down. His brow knits.

Darcy blinks mildly. She gathers up the cloak to not trod on it - it's too long for her - and takes a few steps after the buck, staying back a little. "Harp?" Her ears angle back. "Hey, mister.."

Magramba pulls out his sword, snagging a small, smooth stone for to hone the blade. "Sure, he's all cute and cuddly now..." It's a mutter, so there's little chance of anyone taking offense.

If Crow were awake - and not so cute and cuddly and little - he might just take offense. But of course he's not, so he doesn't. The little brunette seems unaware of their closer proximity to the mouth of the cave again, fist curling into the fabric of Harper's stolen shirt to tuck it more in around him. He grunts.

Harper's ears twitch. Whether in response to Mag's mutter or Darcy's attempts to draw him out, who knows? "Mm?" he answers.

Darcy takes another step, crouches. Not right up close to Harper, but a few feet back. "Hey. What's going on in your head."

"I'm thinking about how much harder this is going to make the trip," Harper lies.

Darcy's nose twitches. "No you're not. I know you better than that." She glances from his face to the kitten. "I'll take him if you don't want him.."

The steel rasps against the stone. "I can rig him on my back, if we have to. It's not like I'm not already carrying a small town around with me." Magramba fingers the edge, and pitches the stone in favor of one more up to par with his standards.

"Do you." Harper doesn't deny it - he doesn't confirm it, either. His eyes have settled on Crow's face. He shakes his head. "No. Just. See what we have left to eat?" His ears twitch at Mag's words. He snorts.

The clatter of the stone across the floor makes Crow's ears twitch in his sleep. He stays in his doze, though, a bundle of purring, fluffy problems all wrapped up in a tiny package of cute.

Darcy shakes her head. ".. I hate when you do this," she mutters, and gets up, leaving Harper to sulk by the entrance to the cave. The doe moves toward their bags, drops on her rump, and starts sorting through them looking for food.

Magramba says, "Strawberries are in season, you know."

Once she's moved off, Harper is happily isolated once more. He just. Looks out into the rain. Subdued.

Unaware of the angst that has settled between the two hares, Crow sleeps on with the shirt grasped in his little fist and his muzzle hidden behind this hand. His purring has deepened. At least he isn't in danger of freezing to death now.

Darcy finds food, and once there's a fire going she sets about cooking. Not something she's very /good/ at but it's travel rations anyway, most of it is served without being heated up. After a while the doe approaches Harper again, standing a little ways off, catching him. A bowl is held in both hands, with a roll and some dried fruit and stew, because they just left the town and have enough supplies for something like stew.

It takes him a while, but Harper seems to square himself with whatever was bothering him, because eventually he turns and heads over to Darcy and the others. "So what've we got?" he murmurs, not wanting to disturb the toddler.

Darcy gestures, holding the bowl out. "Rolls, fruit. ... I made stew. I /attempted/ stew. Heh." Her eyes are half shut.

Harper lowers himself down onto the ground and manages to shift Crow lower in his arms, to curl him in his lap and free up his paws. He takes the bowl with a nod of thanks, sniffing it. "... Smells fine t'me," he offers in way of lame apology.

Once she hands it over Darcy dips her hands into the pockets of her pants. She looks childish in the cloak made for someone a foot taller than her. "Well. Enjoy it then," she says, backs up a step, and turns to get her own food.

The toddler grunts when he is lowered out of Harper's arms before rolling over so that he is curled onto his side, facing out of the buck's lap and with one small hand hanging off of his leg. His cheek has ended up on the older male's knee and Crow slumbers on within the niche that his folded limbs make.

Harper brings the soup bowl to his lips, sipping tentatively. And hey, it's /not/ so bad. He watches Darcy while he eats, quietly.

By now her tunic is dry. Mostly dry. The doe changes back into this and discards the cloak, draping it over her cushion. She glances toward Harper and Crow as she picks up a roll for herself, tearing off a piece. Her gaze is questioning. "Need more time?"

Harper shakes his head. But he doesn't say anything, either. He glances back down at the kitten.

Darcy moves over, roll in hand, and crouches next to Harper, then sits back on her scut, back to the wall of the cave. "Sorry." She smiles, apologetic.

Harper's brow quirks. He glances up, looking confused. "... For what?"

Darcy gestures with the roll. "For.. that. A little while ago. I should've just left you be."

Crow is sleeping peacefully, right now ears settled backward into his hair and fingers twitching slightly in his sleep. It's not certain how long the baby was out on his own, wandering around, before the storm.

Harper doesn't say anything to that. He looks back down, sighs quietly. "We're going to have t'find somethin' for him t'eat. Once the rain lets up, I'll go out. There's a stream not far from here."

Darcy's ears quirk. "Fish? .. I guess he'd old enough for real food. I know /nothing/ about babies..." Her voice is low. She kind of looks askance at him for the evasion but doesn't press it. Her hand reaches out, fingers petting over the toddler's pointed ears. "Kind of adorable, though."

Harper looks up. He rests his back against the stone of the cave behind his head. "He's old enough," he sighs out.

Darcy mutters, "Harper."

Harper's eyes close. "I'm tryin', Darce. Sh."

Darcy leans, and noses against the buck's shoulder. Her hand curls briefly against the bend of his arm.

"And he is adorable," Harper finally cedes. His eyes open. He smiles the faintest bit.

"Yes. He is. Eat up, I slaved all day making that for you," Darcy teases, squinting at him. "Like a good little housewife. What now, mister?"

Lightly purring and giving an ear flick when he is petted, the babe just naps near to the fire - warming up and drying off in this way as he stays curled in the middle of the duo's conversation. He kneads one hand briefly into Harper's calf while sighing again.

Harper winces slightly at the kneading, but otherwise he stays still. He just nods at Darcy, ducking his head to the meal. "Thanks."

"... you'll feel better when you're with Tam," Darcy says after a moment.

"I'm okay, Darce," Harper answers. "So what're we going t'do about him? We can't just take him with us... His family's probably here."

Darcy lifts her brows. "Where? We're half a day from the village. Probably abandoned."

"Not everyone lives in a village," Harper points out. Looks down at the sleeping form. "Mayhaps he c'n tell us."

".. well. We'll ask when he wakes then," Darcy says with a smirk. "Anyway I don't see why we can't keep him."

Harper laughs, looking up at Darcy. "... Because his mom might have an issue with that?"

"His mom probably dumped him out in the wild for birds to eat," Darcy retorts. "Just 'cause you're a good parent doesn't mean everyone is. ... let's take him with us."

"Or he got separated from his mom in the storm," Harper replies. But he shakes his head, then. "We'll ask him, 'n' if he can't tell us, we'll look around a bit. If we can't find them, we'll take him with us."

"Fine." Darcy gives him a meaningful look, and a grin. ".. guess he can probably supply us with a name, too. Ruins the fun of trying to think of one, heh."

"... Darcy," Harper says in a wary tone. Shakes his head. "/One/ clucky female in our group is enough."

Darcy lifts her brows. "I'm not /clucky/ Harp, I just think he's cute. .. besides. Who cares if I am a little?" Her eyes shut halfway, a sort of peering, skeptical expression taking up her face.

"I do?" That's the obvious answer. Harper just shakes his head, refocuses his attention on his meal.

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Well I'm /not/. I don't want kids. I just.. occasionally enjoy playing with other people's." And she reaches over, poking a finger at one of the kitten's ears.

"... Good." Harper is looking at her like she's a semi-explosive substance, though. She might go at any time! "You'll wake him," he warns.

Darcy brushes her thumb against the ear and glances at Harper. "So this is going to push us back a day or so. Figure the world just doesn't want us to ever get to Sala, huh?"

"Nnf." Being poked in the ear is a little different from being petted or just soothed. Crow swats lazily at his ear as if a fly is bothering him, a motion made while he is still asleep. His whiskers twitch rapidly.

"At this point I'm starting to wonder," Harper responds. Shakes his head.

Darcy smiles softly at Crow, and continues to rub that ear. Then her attention is back on Harper, even as the motion of the two fingers continues. "Well. Adventure, right?"

Harper's lips press together in a thin smile and he just shakes his head. Darce, Darce, Darce. He watches the ear rubbing. "If he scratches me for that, I'm coming after you." Pause. "Yes. Adventure."

"What would you do," Darcy taunts lightly, grinning. "Hit me?" Hooray for private jokes.

"No. Far worse," Harper smirks.

"I don't think a puddle counts as 'far worse'," Darcy retorts. "I've already been drenched today."

"Not a puddle," is all he says.

Darcy narrows her eyes. "You think you're all ferocious.. You're not."

Darcy says, "You're just some molting bookworm."

Harper says, "Not molting anymore."

"Mmn." After a while of the doe rubbing insistently at his ear in this manner the toddler ducks his muzzle more against the buck's leg and huffs out a note of displeasure before his face twitches into something more upset as if he might start into a tantrum at the disturbance. He swats at the hand again, tugging his head off to the side before giving a little hiss.

"Told you," is all Harper says. And shoos at her paw.

Darcy drops her hand from Crow with a grin. "Aw, look at the little scowly face." That hand moves to Harper's neck, taking a clump of fur, and tugging. A few hairs come loose. "... you are too. Kind of."

Mm? "Am too what?"

The little boy pushes up a little bit now, so that he ends up leaned sideways with his back pressed into Harper's stomach but his feet still tucked into the niche of the hare's folded legs. His nose is scrunched up and he is scowling in a groggy manner while glancing around him and rubbing at an eye. Grrf.

"Molting," Darcy says, then looks down. Her hand comes over again to pet back the kitten's ears, fingertips brushing the dark, soft locks. "Hey handsome," she says softly to Crow.

Silence from Harper. He tilts his head, looking down at the little kitten. After a few seconds, he attempts a greeting. "Hi there."

Harper says, "Am not."

Darcy says, "I said /kind/ of. And you most certainly are a bookworm."

A grumbly, upset little sound escapes the kitten as he rubs more at his eye before trying to peer at the hand that rubs into his hair. This is the culprit! The tired youth goes to push her hand away with both of his own while leaning back more into the buck's front. "Nnh." Crow's ears are flattened backward.

Darcy chuckles. "Apparently you're the preferred parent."

Harper's arm comes gently around Crow's middle. "You're all right, little guy." He glances up at Darcy, briefly. "I'm Harper 'n' this is Darcy."

Then again, Harper is not the one poking and disturbing him while he sleeps. Anyway, Crow is not in the best of moods - tired, hungry and disoriented due to just waking up in an unknown place without his mother and only strangers nearby. The kitten clutches at the arm that embraces his middle, looking ruffled as he takes in a deeper breath. "..wan' mama.." He pouts out unhappily.

Darcy eyes Harper briefly, with a look that suggests he can handle it.

"I know you do, little guy... What happened? Where'd mama go?" Harper's voice is very soft and gentle.

This is where he can get confusing to the poor toddler, who pulls a face of upset at the questions. If he knew where mama was, there really wouldn't be a problem right? Crow shrugs his shoulders while looking off towards the cave entrance, eyes half closed from his tired state.

Darcy tilts her head a little. "Hey sweet-thing," she murmurs, moving around to sit in front of Harper, so the kitten is between them. "When's the last time you saw your mum? Can you remember?"

Harper glances up at Darcy, but he doesn't look very hopeful. He's thinking this isn't going to work.

Crow shrugs his shoulders again, looking more distressed at trying to remember when he last say his mother. Numbers are hard enough for the little boy, but trying to gather together any manner of hours or days is nearly impossible. His face has twisted into a look of bewilderment and stress before he tucks his muzzle against the buck's arm to hide his face. ".. wan'.. wan'.. mama..."

Rr. Harper ducks his muzzle down to Crow's ears, murmuring reassuringly into his ear. "... It's okay, it's okay. Shhhhh."

Darcy glances at the buck with a shrug. She tried. "Hey, are you hungry?" she asks in a low, careful voice. "I'm sure you are. How about a roll with jam, would you like that?"

Are you hungry? That's something that Crow can actually answer. He nods numbly with an unhappy expression on his face as he lifts his muzzle away from the buck's arm. This ends with his ears twitching to either side of Harper's snout. To the roll and jam question though? Well. That gets nothing. He looks uncertain though.

"Stew might be better," Harper suggests. "Fill him up, more." Harper shrugs. Fish would be /best/. He goes to lift Crow out of his lap, glancing towards the cave entrance. The rain hasn't exactly eased up. "I'm going to see if I can get some fish."

Darcy lifts her brows. "It's pouring out." As Harper gets up she moves onto her knees, and scoops Crow up. He's held on her hip as she rises and goes toward where the stew is, finding a bowl, starting to dish out some.

"It's what he needs," Harper answers resolutely. He's casting about - ah! There's his cloak. He pulls it on. It's still slightly damp - not that it matters. "I'll be back," and he turns to look at the pair.

When he is lifted away from Harper's lap the toddler's arms end up spreading a little as if to help him stay steady while his legs curl naturally towards his stomach. Then he is being dropped into Darcy's awaiting hands, clinging to her while burying his face into her shoulder. Aghh.. what's going on?! He doesn't feel quite so secure and being shifted around isn't allowing him to go back to sleep either.

Darcy just nods. She settles nearer to the fire, perching Crow in her lap and holding a bowl of the stew. It's warm, but not hot - no risk of him being burned. A spoon is taken up, and she scoops some of the food, offering it near Crow's muzzle. "Try it, it's good."

She's lying to him. Crow can already see that. He lifts his muzzle away from her shoulder long enough to peer at the spoon before leaning in a little. He snuffles near to the sample of stew and then twitches his whiskers while scrunching his nose. Once more his face ends up buried, but this time against her chest as he curls up.

"Oh come on, you haven't even tried it yet," Darcy coxes the kitten, still holding out the spoon. She nudges him, trying to get him to lift his head.

The kitten doesn't /want/ to try it. It's got nothing in it he wants, he's certain of that. It takes a cat a good while to settle into eating a meal without meat in it and a lot of times adults will hardly go for it at all. At this point, Crow is surviving on milk and meats mostly - with the natural childish aversion to vegetables anyway.

Darcy sighs, and sets the spoon in the bowl. The bowl is put next to her, nudged out of the way, and she just holds onto Crow, rubbing his back. "Guess we're waiting for the hare-daddy, huh?" she murmurs to Crow, smirking.

The kitten curls his tail around his legs and tries to settle in further, tucking his feet in more. He takes in a deep breath before letting it shakily escape him. Crow doesn't even really know what she's talking about, because he would not consider the buck his 'daddy' of any sort.. but this is better than being out on his own, lost in the woods.

"Hey," Darcy says after a little while, looking down at the kitten as she continues to pet him. "What's your name?"

Unfortunately for the kitten, he has one of those tough names that a toddler can hardly pronounce. He tries anyway. "'ntah'ez." The baby mumbles before twitching his ears into a flatter position. "Mama calls m' K'oh." It might be decipherable.

"Koh?" Darcy blinks a little. She hear just a trace of an 'r' in there. ".. Crow?"

Noddle. Crow has almost closed his eyes again as he gives his confirmation to this. That would be his name, yes.

Darcy smiles a little at this. "Crow. It fits you perfectly." Her fingers brush at his black hair, petting the locks backward, muzzle ducking too smooch the top of his head.

The little tom huffs when the kiss is dropped on the top of his head and he gives another, deeper sigh while trying to settle in once more. The grumpy isn't passing with his tired state still lingering.

Darcy keeps her arms looped around the kitten, snugging him to her chest, one hand gently petting his arm while she looks outside at the rain. "Come on Harp.."

It doesn't seem like the toddler is going to last much longer. Now that he is more comfortable again - and not being probed at - Crow is beginning to doze off in the smaller hare's embrace. It is an alternative to getting food, anyway.