Minna is left to her own devices for now -- a better father might realize leaving a baby unattended wasn't the best of ideas, but hakon is not a better father. He is barely a father, period. A low noise rumbles from his throat as he leaves the den behind, shoulders unslumping the further he gets. Scilla isn't quite the place for peace and quiet but he needs it, wound up too tightly after being alone for so long.

At least here the ocean salt fills the air; at least here he can feel the autumnal sun in his fur. He prowls idly through the lands, coming to stop just short of where the lagoon opens up into the ocean. It is a quiet day, beautiful -- the weather only starting to dip towards cool. Soon winter will be here and with it, that clawing sense of homesickness. He'd trade these golden sands in a heartbeat for nethelus, but only the home in his mind -- he enjoys freedom too much.

The freedom to lay in the sands, undisturbed.

The freedom to simply do nothing, today of all days.

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Hillevi thinks she's so very sneaky. She creeps after @Hákon's trail low to the ground, the little stub of her tail wriggling with excitement behind her as she trundles through the underbrush. Being a cub, of course, she's no doubt making her presence rather obvious, but she's pleased to have gone unnoticed for this long.

Ragna had told her about being stealthy, so now she's determined to try it for herself, and the burly cream lion has made himself an ample target with his slow progression through the territory. Eventually he stops, and Hillevi watches on from the bushes with a wry glitter in her eyes, hunkering down low in a spring-coiled pose. With the most fearsome little growl she can muster, the girl bursts free from her hiding spot, attempting to tackle Hákon's back right ankle with her needle-like claws and milk teeth.

the first storm and the last

table by sentinel / art

he should know better than expect peace and quiet in this godforsaken lagoon, he really should.

between magnus' endless spawn, there are other cubs, too. saga's children had seemingly not been blessed with her severity, instead opting to be little handfuls. he knows even minna is a monster when she wants to be, a little fuzzy cyclecone of nonsense. and so when he hears the terrible little growl erupt from just behind him, he can only sigh.

he knows that noise, and knows exactly what's coming.

the expression on his face would be hilarious if the situation wasn't so grim, staring into the middle distance with a perfect, long-suffering expression the moment that tiny baby teeth and claws pierce into his ankle. they're sharper than they look ( a fact he has learned, personally, thanks to minna and her outbursts ), but he's also used to this. @Hillevi has successfully hunted him, and though she's stuck the landing, she's missed the mark a bit.

he shifts, turning his upper body to look at her gnawing and clawing at his ankle, gritting his teeth through the sharp, piercing pain. he clicks his tongue, caught somewhere between disappointed and impressed -- and surely it will depend on her actions next. stänga, ( close ) he says, in his native tongue -- before repeating it in icelandic for her benefit. if you want to sneak up on someone, sigrun, you need to do it quietly. then, the skagos punk lifts his ankle ( with or without her attached ), intent on gently kicking it in the hopes of dislodging her from his paw, the same way you'd kick your foot when something was stuck to your shoe.

try again.

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Like most children her age, Hillevi has no idea just how sharp her claws and teeth are; truthfully, it likely wouldn't have changed her behavior if she had known. She lands her target with an excited little wiggle of her bunny tail, chomping down on his ankle mercilessly. She pauses her onslaught as he turns to offer her a looming stare, bright silver eyes peering up at the hard lines of his face with his flesh still pinched between her teeth.

Her mismatched ears thrust forward at the unfamiliar word, though he quickly replaces it with one she understands. She is immediately curious about the foreign tongue, but then is quickly distracted from that thought with his stern instruction, shortly thereafter finding herself thrust unceremoniously back into the sand. Hillevi tumbles backwards with a surprised hiss, righting herself quickly and shaking the sand from her pelt as he insists she try again.

That appeals to the stubborn nature in her, and she offers @Hákon a narrowed glare, wriggling and hunkering down into the sand into the most predatory position she can muster. Being a cub, she truthfully just looks humorous with how serious the lines are on her tiny face. Her tail wags eagerly in an upright position as she takes heed to his instruction, this time pouncing at his foreleg without making a sound.

the first storm and the last

table by sentinel / art

Maybe he shouldn't be surprised that she heeds his words. The lion watches with little amusement as the potato cub takes a moment and processes his words, before shifting back into attack mode. But this time she's more methodical about it. She has to think about it this time, which is good. it means her movements are more coordinated and she is quieter this go around; @Hillevi is silent as she pounces this time, grabbing hold of his foreleg once more.

Better, he says -- tone sounding distinctly bored but his gaze lingers on her regardless, attention not flagging. Not many will give you a second chance, though. Best to keep it in mind, if she gets the idea to attack another. Here in the lagoon it was probably safe enough, but outside the borders? A death wish. He thinks ( assumes? ) saga would impart such knowledge on her children, though considering hille is here and gnawing on his toes.... well, maybe not.

There are more of you, yeah? He says, squinting slightly -- as if just remembering this. there had been... two more, he thinks. Ocean eyes cut towards the surroundings but he sees nothing but sand. no other cubs were lurking in the few shadows of scilla here today. Where are your syskon? siblings. he does not realize, of course, the sigrun do not hold this tradition of skydda; be does not realize it is just another thing lost to the time their clans spent apart.

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