(A/n) So, uh, my posting schedule is going to be thrown off for a little bit. I’ll get the next arc out as fast as I can, but parts of the timing for some portions of Week 14 aren’t entirely in my control. Might have to slow down for a little bit after that to rebuild my buffer again.
So, we’ve had a little bit of a shift. Willow and Druid have been upgraded to kennel stock, taking up the run at the end of the wing. Largely because Willow’s litter was born earlier this week. TWO. FUCKING. ALICORNS. That she and Druid (and Warlock) were valiantly defending from the rest of the herd. This makes 4 out of the litters I’ve had here so far, so I’m pretty sure I should offer up a few extra prayers to whatever Aesir or Vanir would be most interested in fluffy genetic expression. Probably starting with Freya, Freyr and Loki- since this seems his sort of chaos. Might add in Amatheon, Gwydion, and Rhiannon. And Epona. Can’t neglect the other side of the family heritage.
I admit, if I had KNOWN that one of the litter mates Warlock spoke so highly of had been an alicorn- I might have made a few slightly different decisions along the way. No matter. It can be taken into account now. Five foals, one reddish-brown alicorn, one the same dark green of her father, another dark green earthy, a pegasus the same golden brown as willow, and a dark yellow unicorn.
To really no surprise at all, they and Pepper are already getting on splendidly. They are also nearly ecstatic to see Birch and Cloud again- who, since the precedent is now set, have been moved into the far run with them. The sheer joy in that corner of the kennels is nearly nauseating. (It also got ten times worse the moment Genny came in for her next shift. She’s decided that entire little family is the most precious thing in existence. The squees nearly shattered my eardrums, and the sap might have given me diabetes. My observations on this don’t need to be shared with her or Jake, by the way.)
Footage this week is going to be odd if I ever get it to load properly at all- I took Glory and Rook out on a run with the dogs and Asher. Which means everything I shot was both off my phone, grainy, and skittery as heck as I tried keeping up with them. Everyone involved had a great deal of fun, however. And the freezer is going to be full until I run the grinder for a while. I’ve got a maybe plan on how to set up better footage for next week, though?
Glory has decided the dogs are, in fact, good friends to have in the Pack when they’re"‘onna weaw wunnin’ hunt.” Which means Rook was quietly smug at him for most of the ride home, right until Glory informed him he was being ‘wude’.
Neither of the boys are really fast enough to keep up with the dogs- although it even out a little when Jesse and Jan started tiring out. Would even out more if they were conditioned a bit better- the canned hunts they’ve been training on aren’t much for building stamina. (I found and ordered a slightly larger version of those cat running wheel things for them. There will be exercise in the immediate future of three of the pack- Miss Am-soon-mummah can get out of it for now, but a tired Foxfire can only make life easier for everyone.) That said- they still did their part.
The fact that they had at least a general grasp of english meant they could work with less specific orders, or orders that would take a few tries to train into the herd dogs. Jane understands what “Go get” means as a general command, and that if the last word isn’t one she understands then it’s probably whatever is pointed at. Asher has her trained enough he can ask for the mummahs or the foals and she can usually separate out the big fluffies from the little ones. Jesse can hunt out a single mare hiding under a trash bin if she sniffs long enough- but can’t be trusted not to try eating solitary foals or wounded adults.
The boys can be told to bring in the mummahs with their foals, to separate out the unicorns from the pegasi from the earthies. They can understand the gist of go find the pretty ones or hunt out a particular color- which the dogs could learn, but- The demon fluffs can both see in color and are better at generalizing, is the main difference. They aren’t as fast or as strong as the dogs, but they learn differently, and they are trying their best.
I got them at least somewhat drilled in basic obedience to start with, but I didn’t have the faintest clue what kind of hunting their instincts defaulted to, let alone how to train them in it. Asher says they started out hunting like someone dumped a really dumb rabbit in a pen of six month old corgis when they’re together and a bit more like that same rabbit dropped in front of a cat who’d never been outdoors before when they’re alone.
They were getting better at the yard hunts off sheer trial and error, but it’s the fact it took one afternoon running around with the herd dogs for Rook to try herding a fluffy where he wanted instead of grabbing and dragging that Asher found more interesting. Right along with the way Glory and Aurora started trying to mimic his attempt the moment it seemed effective. He’s offered to start helping me actually train them into more practiced hunting behaviors. The more of them hunting under orders and without as controlled scenarios we can get, the more of the original concept we can prove out for them. Not that the canned hunts in the play yard are going to cease any time soon, if only because it’s way easier to film. But if we can turn the feeding footage into as much advertisement for the next generations as funds from subscriptions, all the better.
And I think he’s strongly debating the potential of his own Pack, so there’s that as well. We’re still planning on pre-sterilizing any we sell, right? Maintain the monopoly while what demand we can raise remains and make sure we don’t turn a pile of slightly more capable ferals loose on the world.
In other news, the high school drama that is being unleashed on me continues. Genny was lowkey mooning around after Asher came by, Randy decided to give Jake heck about losing his girlfriend to a fluffy wrangler. It damn near came to blows before I managed to intervene. And then Randy “apologized’ by showing Genny one of those compilation of fluffy abuse things. There was a splendid little pirated clip of the kiddo’s going after that one pregnant mare, in addition to assorted Fluffmart behind the scenes mishaps.
Yeah, she fell apart sobbing- and then Jake decided to ask why she thought they had fangs, hadn’t she figured out what we were breeding, etc. And at the height of her extended little crying fit, Randy also pointed out that Asher was a major supplier to half the mills and people who need to buy fluffies regularly in bulk for sordid reasons in the state.
I ended up sending all of them home. Jake apologized a day later, Randy is still on shit duties, and Genny still showed up for her next shift. None of them are speaking to each other, (blessed, blessed quiet, lol). Genny is hugging baby fluffies every chance she gets and barely talking to me, since she can’t believe I’m “dating that horrible abuser!” (She tried whining about this at Katy, by the way. Katy looped me in over coffee for the laugh.) But she still wants a job, and the local Fluff-mart manager doesn’t let employees “spoil product with excessive attention” unless you buy the fluffy first. I’m paying her a teeny bit better and let her hug baby fluffies all she wants,(as long as she gets everything else done) so here she will stay! I give this a week before it blows over and they all go back to the usual teenage shit.
The special friends Marnie and Foxfire saga continues. To quote a small Demonfluff- “Speciew fwiends awe da fwuffies ‘ou wan waise babbehs wit’! Mawnie am bestest fwiend an’ bestest at wookin’ afta babbehs. Fo’fia gun waise bestest an’ guudest babbehs wit Speciew fwiend Mawnie!”
You can’t actually have babies with Marnie, Foxfire, she’s a mare too, I said. “Dat otay, Fo’fia nu can hab babbehs tiww Mummah Shado’ say owd ‘nough, an day nu tiww fowebas an’ fowebas fwom nao! Fo’fia can wook aftaw Mawnie babbehs!” Marnie is fixed. Her old daddy made sure she could never have babies, I told her. “Dat siwwy, Mawnie awweady hab aww da babbehs. Fo’fia gu hewp speciew fwiend wit babbehs nao. Wub ‘ou mummah Shado’!” At least they are both adorable and doing really well with the little demonfluffs and the weaning of the sale stock.
Marnie is actually backing Foxfire on the special friends thing- if with a great deal of nervous bafflement and general “if it makes her happy” energy. Reminds me of my first girlfriend.
Speaking of, I ended up naming one of the itty bitties. Enough of the little white alicorn’s mane grew in that it became evident it’s going to end up white with that darker red as the tip color, just what my bitch insipid, controlling own little highschool drama of a first girlfriend spent all of sophomore year spending her mom’s money to do to her hair. So she’s Branwyn. May she avoid the worst chaos of her namesake- (Note to self, avoid allowing any of the Pack to watch excessive anime and listen to j-rock, just to be on the safe side.)
Bill drove by, made a cursory tour of the place and stock, and promptly collected Princess Flutterbat. “to collect data on subjects raised in other conditions.” I’d snark, but he still claims I’m the only other competent person here, and I don’t want to change his mind. And I would never question how much of his budget went to that particular project embryo.
Still debating names on most of the other eight ittybitties. Almost named one, but the gold and dawn unicorn can’t spend his life called tubbo. tempting as it is. I shall continue pondering.
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