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[Pet Meme for @mixingpumpkins.]
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Cornwall, near Tregeseal, ~30BC …
“Papa!” The child’s voice pierced the background sounds of the village. “Papa!” There was no thought to lowering volume, nor as yet any hint of the mild contralto she’d reach as she grew, it carried over quiet voices, the rustle of the wind and the gentle rasp of her father’s whetstone on the blade of his sword.
“PAPA!” Louder still, as if by some miracle he’d not heard her, though he’d need to be completely stone motherless deaf, “I kilt a dwaggin!”
“Did ye, now?” Branek put down the blade and got to his feet, a resigned sigh belied by the smile on his lips. “A mighty beast was it, then?”
He already knew what he was going to find - his daughter Therese with some stick or other she pretended was a sword, and the ‘slain dwaggin’ sprawled on his back with rear paws splayed and front ones held up, bristled snout panting and tail beating a happy ‘thump-thump-thump’ on the turf.
Oh. And the garland of leaves decorating his neck, intended to be the monster’s fearsome scales. Branek stopped a second, composing himself so that laughter didn’t encroach on the dreadfully serious business he’d been called to see. “Be praised, lass!” He gasped, “‘Tis even bigger than the last one!” It wasn’t, being the same hound, but his wee girl beamed up at him ear to ear, and that made the lie worthwhile.













