Aurin holds his mother's hand as she leads him from the street to his aunt and uncle's house. He's been here only a couple of times, and can't remember most of them distinctly; they're sort of awkwardly related, his dead father's half-brother and the wife thereof. But now they have a baby parunia, and that means there is a dragon related to Aurin who is not too far from his age, only thirty-one years younger. This is apparently the sort of relation that it will be particularly enriching for Aurin to meet. They can do this now instead of waiting a month, because parunias don't die when they're babies; this one is safe, unlike the miscellaneous cousins on his mother's side he's never met because they are all in too much danger to get attached to (and have all succumbed to that danger). So here they are. Even though it was a very long flight and he couldn't ride his mother for takeoff and landing when she had to be a heron, only for the middle part.
Alys knocks on the door.
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Koridaar opens it, little silver baby snuggled in her arms.
"Hello, Alys. Hello, Aurin. Come on in."
"Hello, Alys. Hello, Aurin. Come on in."
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The baby looks at Aurin and meeps. Koridaar scritches him.
"We're doing pretty well. I'm glad he took the time off; looking after this baby seems to be a one-and-a-half-person job minimum. I'm falling a little behind on my research, but I can't regret it."
"We're doing pretty well. I'm glad he took the time off; looking after this baby seems to be a one-and-a-half-person job minimum. I'm falling a little behind on my research, but I can't regret it."
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Koridaar crouches down to hold the baby at a more Aurin-appropriate level.
"Careful with him, he's little," she advises, and then looks up at Alys with a smile. "The way he acts, I sometimes think he thinks there should have been two of him and he's trying to make up for it."
"Careful with him, he's little," she advises, and then looks up at Alys with a smile. "The way he acts, I sometimes think he thinks there should have been two of him and he's trying to make up for it."
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"Meeeep," says the baby parunia. He bumps his tiny silver nose against Aurin's hand.
"He likes books," says Koridaar. "He likes to nest in them, specifically. And he considers the surprise dive onto your head the highest form of affection."
"He likes books," says Koridaar. "He likes to nest in them, specifically. And he considers the surprise dive onto your head the highest form of affection."
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"I don't have any hats I'd describe as especially discouraging," says Koridaar. "I might ask you to recommend one, except I'm afraid he'd just take it as a challenge. One which the hat would go on to lose."
"Moop," the baby says authoritatively. He stands up on his mother's hands and launches himself into the air, to flap around Aurin in circles.
"Watch out," Koridaar advises, smiling. "He might decide to land on you."
"Moop," the baby says authoritatively. He stands up on his mother's hands and launches himself into the air, to flap around Aurin in circles.
"Watch out," Koridaar advises, smiling. "He might decide to land on you."
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The baby chases! The baby is good at chasing. He successfully lands on top of Aurin in midair, and lets out a little baby giggle. Koridaar regards this spectacle with extreme fondness.
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The baby climbs into Aurin's lap and snuggles him vigorously. Koridaar smiles.
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"Wouldn't it just," Koridaar agrees. "But sitting still might be a little beyond them."
The baby investigates the prospects of climbing onto Aurin's head.
The baby investigates the prospects of climbing onto Aurin's head.
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There is a minimal amount of claw! He sort of stands on Aurin's shoulder and flops over. One wing ends up in front of Aurin's face. Koridaar continues to be charmed.
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The baby squeaks, flaps a few times, and launches himself from Aurin's shoulder. Perches are not supposed to sneeze on one's wings! That is inappropriate perch behaviour.
"Oh, he's got his affronted look going," laughs Koridaar.
"Oh, he's got his affronted look going," laughs Koridaar.
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Koridaar giggles.
And—
the baby falls out of the air, flomp. Directly onto Aurin's head, as it happens.
Koridaar is still smiling, but it's taken on an edge of puzzled concern. "That didn't look like one of his usual love-dives," she comments.
And—
the baby falls out of the air, flomp. Directly onto Aurin's head, as it happens.
Koridaar is still smiling, but it's taken on an edge of puzzled concern. "That didn't look like one of his usual love-dives," she comments.
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"Maybe..."
The baby is content to snuggle Aurin for a few ticks before climbing up and trying the shoulder-launch again.
Flomp.
"...maybe not," says Koridaar.
The baby is content to snuggle Aurin for a few ticks before climbing up and trying the shoulder-launch again.
Flomp.
"...maybe not," says Koridaar.
Alys starts swearing loudly in Draconic. She picks up her son and squishes him hard enough that he squeaks. She says to him a few things in Draconic that are not swear words and then resumes loudly ranting and then finally switches back to Leraal. "Where's Avar? If he flies in - if he doesn't know and he flies in -"
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Koridaar indulges in some swearing of her own. The baby meeps affrontedly.
"Afternoon nap," she says, "he's here, he won't - but - what happened, that's what I want to know. What happened, and how can I stop it from happening to anyone else. And someone's going to have to tell Piro. And I should—I need to be in at least three places at once—" She scoops up her affrontedly meeping baby and heads to the bedroom to wake up her husband.
"Afternoon nap," she says, "he's here, he won't - but - what happened, that's what I want to know. What happened, and how can I stop it from happening to anyone else. And someone's going to have to tell Piro. And I should—I need to be in at least three places at once—" She scoops up her affrontedly meeping baby and heads to the bedroom to wake up her husband.