(The oc above is not mine- Only the doodle. She belongs to the tagged below!)
Well.
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Hello there, welcome to my page! I'm just an artist who gets carried away, I dabble in writing as well!
Currently playing in @quibble-auk 's sandbox of Transformers ocs and Lore, check her out it's all outstanding and referenced in a huge chunk of my work.
I also have an original species that is being worked on :D (Look under "Pretender" if you're curious~)
Slowly-
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(starts of series maybe?? Plus my main Frog)
Cometeater- A transformers Oc that has taken over my blog, his beginning, though huge pieces of him are scattered all over.
Dropmix Trials- Dropmix and Comet meet. The beginning of a series continued on Quibbles blog!
Deep within. - Comet is sent out on a routine recon mission, and it does not go well.
An Eye for an Eye- Comet and Dropmix come to terms, and in a way that is lacking violence this time. (Dropmix is not mine ofc)
Canyons- Takes place in the Custody au, Cometeater finds a canyon and hopes to God he can find his way home.
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(To be warned this blog has SO many aus, its crazy. I regret nothing. But here's maybe a more...Comprehensible list of them? Maybe not?)
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Horns and Razors au- A swap au where the war never occurs, and Comet becomes a single teen parent in the pits of Kaon. Continued over on Quibbles blog as well!
Perfect World au- An au where Sunrazor finds and adopts an alien and his protective adoptive brothers. Of course continued on Quibbles blog, Sunrazor is hers!
Heart in Hand Au- An au where Cometeater gets adopted by a very different mech as a small child, then left with the beloved Dropmix >:) (Tw this does have child abuse.)
Custody Au- An Au where Comet's brothers get killed and the poor boy is left in the care of his only friend, and said friend's mentor who isn't known for his affection for the Pretender. (The au I made with Quibble to make Dropmix love Comet the only way we could, and it hurts so bad) (Tw mentions of Suicide are prominent)
Dragged Up Au- Based in the 1980s where our aliens get to be human!
*So this is most definitely not all of these, but if you find a silly au tag and want to know more I will be happy to ramble.
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The tags below should help find any aus or important things/ocs!
I am recovering (if you would like to know what from, go read @quibble-auk 's project this is based in) so I am instead focusing on my beloved Hoss and what life he leads beyond being an absolute dummy.
If this feels weird its because it wasn't meant to be this long. It just happened. No idea if its good, but I am happy to just say I did something. Turns out I know how to write in more than one sitting, this is dangerous stuff how do you know when the blurb is done-?
Anyway this is a sequel of sorts, butttttt can be read separately. May link to the first one.....Mayyyybe.......But ehhhhhhh-
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Hoss had been lucky enough to find a stall to rent along the outer rim of the Bone Yard. It was not a live sale stall, he made sure that the rent taker at her booth knew that wasn’t what he needed. “Just one to hold a bull iguanodon for me, if you don’t mind Missus?” The woman had nodded a slow nod, her face having the well worn lines of a gal who had worked hard years and had earned a more gentle position in the sale yard. Hoss made sure to smile, give her all the sweetness he could spare while dusty and sweated down. With a shaky four fingered hand she had handed him his receipt, written in brief strokes of which live blood stall was his, in case any sort of snooping started up or people tried to poke at Hoss’s mount.
“You’re lovely, have a fine one.” He tipped his head and smiled, she finally cracked and gave him her own rise of her lips. Hoss hummed and adjusted his Ducksplitter as he walked with an easy long stride down the wide makeshift halls between stalls. Heavily braced iron gates held smaller creatures in this part of the Live Sale, they honked and whipped their heads in agitation, making quite the racket. It was honestly closer to deafening, but more familiar than any sort of silence would be. Hoss watched with a quiet eye, seeing tenontosauruses with rather pale hides and broken spines to his right. It made his eyebrows bunch at the sight, it was normal to see sad excuses for livestock at times but it didn’t mean he enjoyed it. But the giant of a man didn’t pause, he didn’t need any men poking at him about buying the overpriced cousins to his mount milling around within the pen.
He continued on, sweeping past the shorter men and women who were leering at each other’s reptiles. Not stopping at the sight of the younger boys who helped wrangle and wrench in the stock from their outer runs. Their still lean shoulders shining with sweat and cuts on their faces. The smaller of the boys slamming a heavy rod to the outer gate and spooking the boulderheads with the noise, making them bolt down the run where another teen stood on the gate ready to manoeuvre as needed.
Hoss chuckled at the sight, lips twitching. It was always nice to see the younger crowd slip into the muck and get some callouses. Continuing on through he cut between the rows of flier cages, well more like cages that were supposed to have creatures that flew in them. The cramped mesh of quite a few kept them from even stretching out their wings. Petresuars squawked and squealed inside of them, not as many as they would have had on the coast, but a decent few Hoss noticed. Some looked more dank and mellow than others, some hissed and lunged, teeth catching the wire mesh and twisting. Upset and stressed, nothing new. Hoss sighed and rolled his shoulders when he finally came out to the tie ups, where people who needed to do quick business would tie their mounts.
Not the hauling teams, though the noise and chaos of the area made it feel as though they should just give up and let the haulers have free reign, it's obvious that they would anyway. He eyed a younger man who seemed happy to leave his three Trihorns half tied there, and then stopped dead in his tracks at the Saur that was most definitely not his in the tie up where he left Dog.
The large rust colored iguanodon was nowhere in sight, neither was Titan who Hoss had very clearly told to stay with the mount. Hoss felt his eye twitch as he looked farther along the posts and nope, nothing. A few more mounts, a well behaved Dilo and a thick nosed nervous Duckbill. Maybe a cow Guana but no Dog. No saddle bags, no bird. Nothing.
“No..Damn it all. Hey! Cornshuck!” he bellowed and turned on his heels, nerves almost lighting up as anger sparked with worry. Dog was a loyal beast, not one to wander. At the moment though it didn’t make Hoss feel any better. The earlier mentioned boy with the team jumped as Hoss approached. Flicking his eyes to his illegally tied Trihorns. Visibly nervous he started with an apology, Hoss cut him off with a raise of his hand. “Hush it, I know you only tied here for a minute because your pa is inside talking to your halfcousin aunt- Whatever kid, did you happen to see a red and dappled bull Iguanodon tied three posts down?” The boy blinked, his rather cornshuckish blonde hair being swept out of his eyes with a palm, “Ugh, oh well yessir…” his voice quaked. Hoss almost felt his eyes soften at the nerves in the boy’s hands while they shook. But he didn’t have time to be kind, he needed Dog.
“Would you happen to have seen where he went?” his deep rumble of a voice hit a quake on the last word. Making the boy seemingly sweat harder in the humid wet heat. The earlier wind in the gulleys had made it this way, pulling with it heavy cold clouds. Hoss felt the wet wild wind on his already sticky neck and almost twitched. Deep breaths. “Sir- oh a m-man, a tall dark bird of a man took him.. I wasn’t..I didn’t..” Hoss felt something in his mind deepen and darken.
His rifle felt heavier on his shoulder, and the boy had seemingly long noticed it from the way he had begun to worry his shirt collar. Hoss trailed his hazel blazing eyes along the lean arm of the boy as he pointed in the direction the stranger supposedly took Dog. “Did he saddle up? Was he dressed for travel?” The boy shook his head with a shaky negative and gulped, wiping more sweat off his brow. “He made his wa- his way towards the rental stalls sir..Or atleast I think-..” Hoss grunted and turned, “Thanks kid.”
He didn’t look back as he strode for the stalls, hair rising on the back of his neck before he felt the bird land. Behind him Cornshuck yelped, and Titan cooed sweetly on Hoss’s shoulders. “Well hi there you useless piece of pigeon flesh. Now you decide to swing in?” Whirling around the corner and about to lose his temper Hoss fought to take deep breaths, reaching up a knuckle to stroke Titan’s heavy beak. Forcing breaths his hands twitched with an itch to crack a jaw, someone took his mount and fucking walked off with him.
Somehow.
“Dog ain’t one to roam off on me Tito, where did he go..” Narrowing his eyes he gritted his teeth, before glancing at the now quiet flier perched on his shoulder. An idea poked its head above the water and Hoss snatched it with no level of delicacy. “Titan,” The bird stiffed and twitched with attention. “Tail.”
The bird stared.
Of course, “Damn it all, mother of all the-” The bird let out a low squeak, confused. The word didn’t make sense, because no gun had gone off yet. How would the bird know Dog was the thing he was supposed to be following without the right signals? Hoss grumbled to himself and continued with wide eyes, coming upon the rental stalls with a flourish. Making a few people glance in his direction, though it was probably more due to the fact he had Titan still sitting on his shoulders like the world was warm and to his liking. All was well.
Good for him.
He asked around a few more times trying to make sure his Guano hadn’t rode off into the sunset. All the while getting odd looks from the more well dressed people he didn't even bother to talk to. Who knew if they could even tell the difference between a Tenon or a Guano. So he strode past, and got a vague gesture from an older man with a very surprised looking mustache. As he got farther down the stalls, he felt the weight lift from his shoulder. Grunting he narrowed his eyes as Titan took off for the stalls, wings wide and gliding gently into one about three rows from where Hoss stood.
Jaw clenched he tugged his rifle off his shoulder with an ease, though wary as he walked further down. Counting off the stall numbers passively in his mind, and pausing as the one he rented stood in front of him. Hoss stood dumbly for a moment, suspicious and rather confused. Then Dog’s bright broad snout poked out, and he let loose a happy trill at seeing the big game hunter. Hoss blinked and quickly caught the Guano’s nose in his free hand, running a thumb over the ridge as the beast happily hummed. Sweet and tender.
“What in the blazes Big Dog?” He breathed and pressed his forehead gently to the bull’s snout. The creature hummed again, nosing him. A swell of wing flaps made Hoss look up, Titan settling himself in one of the upper supports without a hint of tension.
But instead with an apple.
“The hell-?”
“Damn Hoss, you really that rared up to shoot nowadays? To think, I brought your mount in out of the heat for you!” Hoss wrenched his head to the side, and laughed. Softly at first before it rose in his chest. Almost childishly he slipped away from his beast and grinned at the man on the top of the gate.
Dark haired and even darker eyed, body tall and lean balanced on the side board like he was meant to sit there, smiling all the while. “Tango! By Freyda you jerk!”
Tango leapt down with a thud, his collarless shirt sweated through and curls almost fuzzy with moisture. But Hoss was pulling him into a hug all the same, Tango happily returning it as more laughter echoed through the stalls. The two men embraced for a warm moment before Hoss grabbed his old friend by the shoulders to look at him, eyes blazing with deep affection caused only by time. “I didn’t know you were hauling down here! I would have come sooner!” The smaller man shrugged, lips hitching up to a crooked smile. “Nah, ain't no need for all that. I know you're a roamer, I ain’t haulin’ anyway.” Hoss blinked at that, curious. “You ain’t hauling? No herds to pull in here? Did..?” It was a trailed off sentence, one that made the other man raise a coal black eyebrow. “I still got all my limbs, you can look at me and tell that you ugly bastard.”
Hoss huffed at that, his face flushing as the other man began to lead him to some benches off to the side of the stable. Good seats for cleaning off boots or just catching a breath, outside a flash of heat lightning glanced off the sky. Tango plopped down and picked up a canteen from under the wooden bench, holding it out to Hoss with a smile. The larger took it with a soft thankful nod, and settled himself. Watching the open side of the stables as more lightning bounced across the sky, he sipped the canteen and hummed happily. Lukewarm, but tipped with the hot splash of ginger that kept a stomach from souring on hot days. He almost groaned at the taste, it's been a long time since he had switchel. “Thanks, by the goddess, it's been hot since I got here.” Tango nodded, wiping more sweat off his own brow. “Its been like that for days now, some of the out of towners think this rain is gonna make it liveable. But that cold wind almost makes me feel worse knowing we have all this stock here.”
Hoss nodded, sipping the water and letting his eyes close in a long blink. “Its gonna be a damn slurry in a few minutes, hard packed ground made up like this? Gonna be fun.” Tango shook his head, leaning back and accepting the water for just a moment before handing it back to Hoss with a shake of his head. “Youv’e been on the trail,” He said as he finished his sip. “ You need it more than I do. I’ve been nipping the stuff all day.” Hoss gave him a sweet smile in thanks, before gesturing at him with a large hand. “Now, why aren't you haulin’? Get tired of the work or..?”
Tango shrugged, sweat once again getting in his eyes as the thunder finally rolled over them. Titan squeaked at the noise, before settling again at Hoss’s soft hum, still picking at his apple above the two men. Hoss sipped the ginger water again, as Tango blinked rapidly. “Damn it that stings, well y’know..I got sorta tired of roaming for a minute, dodging bulls.” Beside him Hoss raised his eyebrows, surprised at the very thought. He got a mild glance, as Tango continued. “Got some people around the sale that…I think I need to stick around a bit closer for.” Hoss blinked at that. Eyebrows raising even higher in a soft question. Tango instead of answering silently chewed on his bottom lip, not on a tin of chewing tobacco, Hoss noticed silently. For a long moment the two friends sat and listened to the hard gusts that began to reach the sale yard. Beside Hoss, Tango eventually shifted. “I love working the bulls and all, I mean I do. I love helping move them, love getting them here and shoved where they need to go. Kept happy for a while before I get to go see a whole new batch of animals when those sell. But… Hoss I..”
The usual spark of brilliant, almost annoying energy hit a different tone in the man’s eyes, a twinkle that held a softness. Hoss let loose a breath, he knew the cousin of that look. “You love it but?” The blonde leaned back and tilted his head, watching as his dear friend blinked and stared out past the now drizzle outside. “But…I think..I wanna be here more. I..If you so much as crack a smile Hoss I’ll tear your hair out..” The threat had some level of bite to it, but it was softened by a gentle curve to the man’s face that spoke of thought. Hoss nodded with all the seriousness he could manage, getting a swipe from his friend who noticed the light mirth shining in his eyes. “Hush it!” Tango’s black eyes blazed, as Hoss fought a chuckle rising in his throat. “I’m hushed! You’re the one beating around the bush!” The jab was caught and accepted by the darker man as he smirked, “Fine, I..Shit well fine. The clerk here..She handles the money and a good portion of the receipts. Checks the books you know?”
Hoss blinked, slowly turning to stare at his friend, who raised his eyebrows . “What in the shit are you staring at me like that for?” Tango had a grit to his teeth now, always one to get easily fired up. Beside him Hoss leaned back as his friend leaned forward, “Would that girl happen to be missing a finger..And maybe 50?” Hoss could not help his worried tone, the image of the older lady he had met earlier in the day looming over him. Like the haunt of a grandma. At that Tango choked and started to laugh, hard. A bark of sudden laughter that ended as quickly as it started, “No??” Hoss huffed at that, his cheeks burning again at the misunderstanding. Tango leaned forward with a grin as mean as a snake. “Hoss did you think I was trying to get up in- Shut UP-!” Rubbing his face Hoss flushed again, trying very hard to ignore the awful mental images that flooded his mind. “My receipt was given to me by an old lady alright! By Freyda you’re disgusting!" Tango barked another laugh at that, eyes glinting. “You’re the one who thought I wanted to get up and into some bloomers that are older than me!
“Well what are you trying to get up into?! Ohh by the goddess I hate that I said thattt..” Hoss groaned again, hating his life and the man beside him who wheezed with enough force to make Dog look up. Huffing the Iguanodon quickly decided it wasn’t enough to worry about. Leaning down to drink from his water that Tango had gotten for him, long before Hoss had found them. Tango chuckled like a madman as Hoss struggled to regain some semblance of composure, head in his hands and fighting off his own laughter. “I hate you.” Tango leaned with a sharp burst of force onto the man next to him, smiling wide and fluttering his eyelashes. “Nahhhhh, you don’t.” He chuckled a long moment, before his eyes caught a cool light and his smile dropped “But if you wanna know..” The laughter died for a moment, that odd soft look back and smoothing Tango’s features. Hoss glanced up, face still burning but cooling with the cold air coming off the wind.
Tango sat a long moment, hands in his lap and shoulder still on Hoss’s. Eventually his drawl swept over the pitpat of drops on the roofs. “Her name is Kittie..Just a sweet shy little thing that acts like the saurs are the scariest things she’s ever seen. I….She came out while I was chewing once, a couple months ago. She didn’t see me at first, just wandered out and watched the boulder pens like she was scared they’d leap at her.” Tango, a man so bred for livestock and the iron locks of gates softened gently as the memory flickered past his eyes. Hoss settled to listen, feeling a warmth grow in his chest. “She has the sweetest face Hoss, I mean the softest eyes I’d ever seen…” He trailed off again, before rubbing his face and smiling. “I talked to her, couldn’t help it. I had always noticed she was a cute thing, but she just never..Spoke. Never leapt out at me. I assumed she was a nervous little thing without a spine to speak of. Hiding during the sales..Hiding from the rougher folk behind her desk.”
Tango leaned back, his eyes dancing along the downpour now happening beyond the eave. Hoss only listened, elbows on his knees and gentle as always. “ Then I saw her, just trying to get closer to the stock like it took the breath out of her lungs to do it, she was shaking Hoss. But she got closer anyway. Made me look at her differently? Yknow?” He didn’t look at his friend when he said it, Hoss didn’t open his mouth to speak. Tango knew the answer himself, he didn’t need his friend’s help. “So I hopped down, and talked to her. She jumped like a startled kid when I did, I won’t say I was the sweetest to her..But after a few shaky breaths she talked to me. Cut and whippy voice, like the whistle of wings Hoss. Different.” Hoss knew what Tango was describing, where that mouse was probably from. The man however didn’t say a word about it, and neither did Tango. “I let her get close, told her about them. She kept coming, every other day I was here. Then it became everyday, getting less shaky. I..Hoss she brought me water and asked me so many questions about it all. I started hanging around her office and almost being late for the sale..”
Hoss smiled, never having seen his friend as whipped as this. He had girls hang on him before, but not him hung up on one. Not like this. Tango then shook his head with a low smile, the look of placid warmth still there but fading off. Tango had never been one to linger on soft underbellies in conversations, “I ain’t giving up on hauling forever y’know, I can always come back to it.” Hoss nodded, ever the listener to his friend’s schemes. Ever since they had met, when Hoss was a tired teen trying to shake off hooks and chains the guild had hammered into him. Hooks that are still in his ribs, but hurt less now. They just are what they are, the skin grown in and over them. Tango had helped with that.
“So what? You working for one of the local ranchers?” Hoss took another drag of the switchel, enjoying the burn in his belly. Tango let out a rueful bark in response, grinning wildly as the quiet tenderness fled. “Nah, I work with the sale owner. Helping with the sellers and their shit.” Nodding Hoss let out an amused noise. “Hah, so you’ll be dealing with people like you every day. That's not a bad gig, you help with ticketing the sales with the auctioneer? Still helping with the walk arounds?”
The men talked for a while, the two of them. Tango, with his deep tanned skin and ever shifting smile, and Hoss with his golden curls and freckled face. They made a pair, had for a long time. When Fletcher had finally loosened his grip and let Hoss loose, they had met. Hoss had been desperate for someone without a badge to talk to, who didn’t know the dead bodies he had wandered after for sixteen odd years. So he had crept to the sale yard with some mount Fletcher had loaned him for “getting out”, just to be around something he knew. No lawmen or lines of names all trying to tell him what he should do, no Fletcher smiling at him like times were still good. Hoss could pet an animal that wasn’t his, meander and talk to people who didn’t know his name.
Meet a boy, “Oh so you brought some bone with ya! Y’know if you bleached em right I know a couple people would love em for hilts, knife handles and the works.”
Oh wow we have a blurb, on HOSS. Yes the wonderful goofy workhorse of a man I legitimately shoved at my wonderful mutual and she took off with. I am so happy about that by the way, she is a wonderful writer and its honestly such a pleasure to see her work.
But I do need to pull some of my own weight so now we have this thing.
@quibble-auk Is the owner of the world, go look at her stuff :D
Do it.
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It was a slicing warm wind, one that tore and ran like wild horses down the gullies and ravines. Twisting curling gasps puffed from nonexistent nostrils between the rock faces with every break between the gusts.
Hoss smiled low and warm to himself from where he sat amongst the many faces of stone, in one of the dips in the edge of the ravines. An old site of a slide, long cemented and stable. His thick wrap curled over his broad shoulders, a light grey speckled in long faded pecks of blue. It was tucked tight, even his own frame could fall victim to the howling that was that wind.
Storm was on its breath, he could smell it as it picked up the pace and screamed past. Freyda’s hums bounced off the walls and made the smile on the man’s face grow. Mostly shielded from the gust he could just sit and enjoy the noise. Hoss was never one to be spooked by the sounds of the wild, calls of lizards or the songs of the Goddess didn’t make his hair raise. The man had grown up with those whispers in his ears, having relatives with sweet soft eyes tell him of the legends. Tell him of the monsters.
Behind him, heavy and pebble skinned, Big Dog hummed.
Hoss huffed and twisted to glance at the iguanadon, who had settled easily on the rocks with a grunt earlier in the hour when they had stopped to rest. Now his mighty head was raised, large eyes curious. Hoss reached back to tap the massive side of the beast with his knuckles, tracing the faint lines of rusty red along his flank. Big Dog hummed again, twisting his head ever so slightly. “What? Cmon Bigs use your words..” Hoss murmured it and looked up, knowing nothing could have been close enough to be of danger…Yet. The Iguanadon would have told him already, with a long grunt or a hurried rise to his feet. Easier to dig a sharp thumb into an enemy standing up of course, or follow Hoss’s lead. Now however, Dog laid relaxed and rather unbothered. He was a gentle soul with a calm demeanor in all the right moments, good for Hoss when he needed clean signals from his beast.
Especially since he had struck out on his own to avoid another contract with the guild. He needed someone he could trust out here.
Dog continued to only sit still, his breath still easy and eyes still sweet as ever. Hoss followed his lead, listening to the wind and trying to sift past the hums. Close to him though, with its curved stock and long barrel, sat his Ducksplitter. A heavy gun that felt more like an extension of his arm than a tool, even when it disturbed him to think about it. It was true.
Hoss did not end up hearing their newest company. No trumpeting calls or falling rocks, he caught sight of it first.
Broad winged, a flier soared along the ravine.
Deep blue and speckled with whites and grays it barreled towards them. Throwing its wings so it twisted to curve out of the wind that helped jet it forward. Hoss let out a low breath and stood, watching the way the wings whirled above him and his beast. Dog kept an eye on Hoss, deep green irises brimming with trust as it eyed his master’s broad frame and watched his shoulders roll back to shake away the stiffness. The Iguanadon did not do more than spare the bird a glance, as it twisted and glided close.
Hoss set his feet, watching the bird with curious eyes. Lifting an arm, the creature took the command with ease. Vivid yellow eyes locked onto the man and its weight landed with a sweep of its dappled skin wings. The pterosaur flapped once or twice to flick away the lack of balance as its left foot curled and gripped Hoss’s shoulder. The creature caught his forearm with its right wing and its clawed paw. It settled easily, large crest striped with red and softer navy greys of its flesh and stripping away to the bone like hardness of it’s beak. In which was clutched a chain, flat and decorated with a round disk of copper. Hoss hummed softly in praise as he raised the bird to check it over, allowing himself to spin and enjoy the weight of the creature. Titan was large for his breed, the tapejara sturdy and young. His neck stretched as he silently twisted closer. His right wing flapping open and swatting the air and making Hoss pause. “What? C’mon, you can’t come barreling through here and almost knock me over just to be a pain, tell me.”
Titan’s eyes dilated as its training quickly became remembered at the trigger phrase. He clicked low in his throat in response, like the slap of lard in a hot pan. The sizzling of meat hissing, high pops slipping from the closed dark beak. It’s glaring yellow eyes flicking to Hoss’s hands as it continued.
Hoss clenched his jaw, pausing as he glanced back towards the ravine with a new sense of waryness. Dog continued to watch his master quietly, as the flier twitched and let loose another string of popping when Hoss was no longer looking at him. Hoss flicked his green rimmed hazel eyes to the flier and smiled softly. “Good, good boy Titan,” He slipped a hand into his pockets beneath his wrap, the bird staring with rapt attention and letting loose a squeak of excitement. The popping grew louder with impateince and Hoss gently hushed the bird and slipped the chain from his beak, not allowing his newest problems to make him be cruel to the young excited avian.
Having pulled out a nut from one of his inside pockets he flicked it up into the air, praising the bird once more. Titan snapped his mighty beak and barely nicked the nut, letting out a click as he snapped again. This time catching it as it fell, as Hoss was slipping the chain into his other pocket. Dog stood slowly, his own nerves not yet prickled at the bird and his signals, but watching Hoss with all the trust of his namesake. Titan clicked and worked on his treat while Hoss flicked his eyes along the ravine once more. Along the once comforting wind barriers, now with a frown, “Titan,” The bird snapped up, “Stick close.” His voice carried with a murmur, the command making the tapejara twitch and slip off his shoulder gliding to the ground. Hoss adjusted his Duck rifle and slipped it off his shoulder as he began an easy, though not slow walk, back to Dog. Hair being blown by the snuffling of his mount Hoss checked down the sights of the weapon. The mountain of a man shouldered it once more as he reached to scratch the brow ridge of Dog, who as always leaned into the touch. Hoss let out a soft sigh.
He hauled himself with ease onto the saddle, Dog rumbling as the soft tap of Hoss’s heels made him roll forward with an oddly graceful gait. The light ridge of the back of his neck got a light pet as Hoss once again unshouldered his rifle, and flicked his thumb along the cold metal with a slick narrow of his eyes. Blonde and slightly red curls caught the light as they slipped out of the ravine and began to reach higher ground. Titan with his ever graceful glide landed with ease on the high hip of the Iguanadon, who only let loose a snort and his skin twitching at being used by the tapejara in such a way. Hoss gave him another pat at being patient with the youngest member of their party, then reached to the strap of ammo that curved along his barrel chest. Under his wrap, blinks of brass shined in the peeking afternoon sun between the folds of cloth. He grunted and checked the load already seated in the Ducksplitter, hazel eyes squinting and counting. Checking and rechecking that the rifle was loaded, that nothing blocked the chamber. All while Dog eased along, now breathing deep into his chest while Titan clicked and picked at his beak.
Hoss twisted himself back to squint at the now slowly receding ravine. The nearest town was still a day long trek, he tapped the brass on his chest with a deep frown. Eyebrows knitting as he did the math. He sighed softly, mind wandering to how it had almost been nice to have a posse to travel with. Good company and new faces, Hoss felt his lip downturn as his mouth went sour. Rejecting the idea, with an internal harsh shove, before tapping and counting his ammunition once more.
For a while the air had a tenseness to it, one of a twitching jaw and taunt skin. Hoss keeping his rifle handy, and his menagerie of critters quiet at his obvious seriousness. Titan, even if he was still being trained, knew Hoss and his very human body language by now. Knew that when the rifle sat that way, he needed to be quiet. Not tense, no. The gun had not been raised. Dog, who had been with the man for many years now, could feel the way he held himself. Coming to the same conclusion, silence was necessary. Not with so many words of course, but still. They trusted Hoss. He was not afraid, only tense. The two animals fed off his mood and continued on, Hoss once more letting loose a low hum and clicking in the back of his throat after the hour of silence.
Titan snapped up, wings twitching with nervous energy of a working animal still learning to control itself. Hoss had the chain in his scarred hand, and began to swing it. Letting it travel in a few long oval arcs to his right, the tapejara’s eyes locked onto the copper disk that assisted the clean swings. Up and down, rounding into a quick circle and emitting a soft whistle that made Titan’s eyes dilate and wings twitch with anticipation. Hoss watched him carefully, not shushing him.
“Titan.” The whistling of the chain, and the tone now had the bird trembling.
“Roam.”
The chain flew up at the arc of its quick swing, going high as Hoss released it, Titan quickly tearing up and after it with an excited squeak.
Hoss couldn’t hold in his smile at the pterosaur and his hot blooded response. Titan caught his prize with a pleased hum, twisting in the air and taking off towards the south. Wings finding a comfortable angle, and gliding as he began his rounds.
The wind as wild as ever flapped his thick dust cover, sending his almost raggedly long hair into a frenzy. Hoss chuffed and shoved it out of his eyes, “I have got to get a new hat..” Titan chittered low in his lightly feathered throat from behind the man, though they were more like spines than soft down of a chicken or a real bird. Hoss twisted to glower at the young animal who still seemed pleased with himself at getting another nut, “Don’t sass me, yes again. By Freyda you know I have the worst time of it…Why do you have to keep bringing it up.” Dog snorted, making Hoss twist again to glare at the faun colored lizard. “Big Dog don’t you start on me too. How those damn Saurboys keep their hats is beyond me...”
Titan had returned within the hour from his excursion, landing and only offering a happy sweet coo when asked. Making Hoss sigh, and the tension drip from his massive frame. Now he playfully talked and muttered to his beasts, allowing his thoughts to trail out loud. An odd habit he had always had when riding. It used to get him cuffed, saying he was scaring away herds and attracting scavengers when his family would join him. But Hoss allowed himself to indulge in the fun of playing with his bird and mount. He had been working, long days and nights of helping the Guild with problems he just had to get roped into.
It could have been worse, it really could have been. He could have had to ride alone with Rollo, that smug bastard and his glinting flint eyes. Always a remark, always a jab. Hoss could smell the insecurity from the man, like a pissed on pair of pants. But it didn’t mean he got to drag up Hoss’s dead people just to make himself look better, like it was going to discount that Hoss was just better at the work than him.
Hoss let out a breath out of his nose, wincing at the thought. He never enjoyed flaunting his skill, it wasn’t something he ever wanted to dangle over some green horn’s nose and make them feel like dirt. Learning is learning, Hoss was often very willing to help any of the young bloods who were new to the trail. As much as he hated being roped and tied, he wouldn’t make it their problem, probably why he kept getting roped in the first place. He didn’t have the heart to be cruel when it wasn’t their fault he was there.
Another sigh, him leaning back to let the wind tear through his hair as if it would fling the ties off.
Rollo would spit in his face if he could, take any helping hand as a grave insult to his badge. Hoss had never liked him honestly, even when the man was a boy just grimacing at him like he was some rancid water logged rat that just happened to be pulled out of a barrel. He had actually said that, a low laugh rippled through Hoss’s chest at the memory. Though there was no humor in it.
“A drowned rat, propped up like a prized Dilo.” Titan chittered softly from behind the smiling man, not understanding the words, but responding to the sounds and melancholy of the tone. Hoss chuckled again, tightening his grip on the reins like it would make it better. Like he could strangle Rollo. He honestly wasn’t worth Hoss’s time, let alone his breath. But the man was a pain, all the same. Only getting slicker with his insults as the two grew up. Though a few did catch them, caught them with surprised glares and set teeth.
It sent a wave of warmth, a fuzz of sorts at the memory of Jesse from their last posse shared. The dark cloudy man twisting to glare at Rollo like he was shit on his boot, grey eyes narrowing and jaw clenching. “He got the shot you missed by a mile Vanderville, shut your trap or I’ll lock it for you.” It had been a warning snarled across a table, Jesse and the posse tired from travel and bloody from their hunt which had almost gone awry. Hoss hadn’t been expecting such a thing from any of them, he had been oh so tired. Just wanting to sleep, and Rollo wasn’t about to let his grievances go unheard. He had started up, growling and making Hoss pause as he set down another card.
A slippery insult at Hoss even being there.
Jesse snapping was not what he thought would happen, not even a little. Hoss would have let Rollo grumble and honestly was about to just leave. Go lay down, finish the card game later. Maybe that was what made the trail boss narrow his eyes, that Hoss had been exhausted. Too tired to even smile and chirp a disarming comment that would keep a fight off the table.
His face was burning as he remembered the harsh set of Jesse’s shoulders, the rough edge of his voice. Hoss blinked and rubbed his plentifully freckled face and almost bleached curls, caused by his lack of a hat and inability to keep one. He chuckled in a concerned way, unable to grasp the heat and why he couldn’t let the image slip from his mind. Jesse was a friend, Hoss honestly had gotten an affection for him within minutes of meeting the grumpy man quite a while ago. The sarcastic and dry sass making Hoss smile wide, now making him rub another calloused palm on his warm face. It was odd.
He let the thought sit before breathing deep and allowing the meandering idea that he would honestly love to travel with the man again. It sat comfortably in his breast, like a ball of yarn soft and vulnerable.
Working with the man made him feel warm, feel the tethers less closely.
Hoss hummed, curious but not dwelling too deep on it. He had some horns to sell in the now approaching town and may..May not take off like a scalded dog if another rider found him at the market and smiled that low smile that spoke of contracts and long rides.
Maybe.
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Maybe this bird stuff isn't tooooo.....Off. I based it on personal experience with training a dog- Plus me having fun.
Rocky in the movie is 80 cm, Rocky in the book says that Eridians are 50 cm, on average.
Anyway, lets talk about how fucked, physically, up a human astronaut would be if left alone in space for 50 years. We don't even require gravity to eat like Eridians do!
Oh my gosh yes?? I will always love the idea of a super tall Adrian, them being a behemoth and tiny Rocky is so sweet. But this is wonderful, the little taps! I love the Adrian design too, makes me think of a spider crab? Spindly. The concern is also so sweet, Rocky went through some stuff and has a physical reminder of it now. Gahh he's not the same Rocky in so many ways now??
Hehe
Thats not gonna mess with him at allll-
Imagine hyping up your tall wife and you come back and you're the ultra tall one now. That's so absurd and I love it.
Just a doodle of Yoti in her full gear, along with birb. Which DUDE the amount of time it took for me to pose him?? Why are their arms like that?? Did I even get them right?
No idea.
I tried.
But isn't she an approachable friendly looking girly??
Scraper is probably so chilly but he will probably end up in her coat before too long. Girl is probably a big game hunter for hire, she has the experience and the skill but isn't part of a party most of the time. Goes a few places, with her big gun. Which hehehe the working name of said big game rifle???
Duck Rifle.
But Dino duck, big big duckbills. Just thinking aloud but the name made me smile.
Oh I don't own the world as always!!! It belongs to my mutual @quibble-auk ! She has a wonderful project going on and you should check it out!!!!!!
bah anyway.
Her hat may look dumb I cannot draw them, its not a normal cowboy hat but this excuse still feels like I cant draw-
We got more Yoti stuff!!! The world and Saurboys are not mine! I am just playing in the sandbox, the world belongs to my wonderful mutual @quibble-auk !
If any of the details are off just let me know, I'm sorta winging it. I actually went back and edited this and I hope it helped with pacing because ehh. I dunno I'm done with it now.
Bleh.
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“Get up kids!”
The well rounded ring of a pan, a scalding snarl of the woman the tool belongs to.
“Major, I swear-”
Sarah mumbled softly, snuggling deeper into her quilt. The young girl was unwilling to arise from her nest as the morning began to unwind itself. Her grandparents beginning their loving dance of biting remarks and over reaction to each other’s antics.
It about lulled her back to sleep, she had been having the most wonderful…Warm dream…Her eyelids were heavy and the scent of the old wood and leather only worsened the issue.
“Sarah, honeysuckle you gotta start waking up.” Rough calloused hands brushed her shoulder, the old nightgown catching on the paws of the old man. He must have lost pan rights, he did so often. It was her Poppa’s favorite way to wake up the visiting paid folk, making a menace of himself. Sarah always loved it. “No..” Muttering and squirming the small girl didn’t get far, the low laugh from her grandfather rumbling through her as she felt herself being scooped up to his chest. Sarah fought back with an angry hum as she was lifted, the cool morning air flooding her blankets.
“Paaa! Nooooooo…” She snatched at her quilt as the old man chuckled, a warm smile behind his coal black whiskers marred with silver. Bright grey eyes twinkled as the rest of the tired bodies in the bunkhouse groaned and bunks creaked. Kaleb laid in a heap beside the old man sitting upright with the girl, still in the bunk he and Sarah had shared that night. His red hair a halo of discontent at the nipping air on his bare feet and overall sour disposition, typical of a morning.
Kaleb had begged to go sleep in the bunkhouse with the hired hands, and his young cousin had of course followed him without a second thought. Not going to think of the many things she was supposed to be doing that next morning. Much to the dismay of their grandmother whose black eyes spied the young girl in her cocoon as she paid half a good morning to the Riders, her gait was worried and tired.
Not that the sleepy Sarah noticed.
“In the bunkhouse Sarah??” She dropped a load of blankets on a nearby Saurboy’s bed, who jumped at the woman’s sharp snap. Sarah, who was far too sleepy to be fearful just yet, distractedly watched the gruff looking woman Rider almost fall off the bunk. In the arms of her grandfather she didn’t even try to quiet her giggle. It was always fun to see a woman Rider, especially one who had such a gruff face. Gran however could not have been further from amused, or seemed to notice the mannish woman on the bed. “Sarah Vass, I did not say you could come in here and sleep! That along with skipping helping out this morning! You naughty thing, wicked lazy girl.”
Sarah winced at the abuse, tunneling into her blanket with hardly a peep to defend herself. She had seen the Saurboys come in with her Poppa, badges shining and their mounts the prettiest of colors. Kaleb and come riding in as well, proud as a young bull to be able to talk to the Riders of their work. Sarah had been stuck at home, sorting ammunition and helping clean some of the rifles. All in all very boring work, she would have rather gone along. Rode with her Poppa, get to hear what all the scarred men with unshaved faces had to say. Ask the mannish girl how fun it was to shoot and run fast, though she never got to hear it from her cousin. Kaleb only wanted to talk of the men. They had been washing their faces before supper and Kaleb had rambled on and on about the Saurboys. How amazing they were, how brave they must be. Sarah had listened on with starry eyes, water still dripping off her chin. Kaleb was always one to meander when he was excited, it never bothered Sarah. But Poppa would later gently hush the boy at supper, murmuring that the Riders were tired. Not to harass them too much.
Supper had been wonderful and exciting with the hired men. Gran had firmly snatched her older sons into the kitchen around midday to help pull together some vittles for the road weary bunch coming in. Uncle Wirey and Thomas took to the skillets and let Sarah mix the cornbread. She liked helping them, Sarah even got to sit in Uncle Wire’s lap while everyone ate. The curly haired blonde had settled amongst the Saurboys like they were kin folk, the big game hunter sweet enough to allow Sarah to steal off his plate and eavesdrop.
Kaleb had been firmly seated by Poppa and the head of the Saurboy party, he would whisper to Sarah much later that night that the older grizzled man had given him a wood carving. Fun and exciting, loud and bright. Sarah got to hear about Tyrants, cold blizzards, and raging rapids. Long journeys.
Till the mood dipped, Gran having poked her head up and slipped off from the bench where she had been seated talking amiably with a woman Rider. Leaning and about perching on Poppa’s shoulder, and a map being laid out on the now half cleared table. Uncle Wirey had quietened, and hugged Sarah close. Then she was shooed, Kaleb too. Voices had grown low, eyes had gotten steely. Talk of tyrants and a concerning way they moved. “Greif ridden” had been a term Sarah caught, before her Granny gave her a kiss and her cousin a cake of cornbread to split.
“Go lay down, don’t be going out to play with the mounts or wandering off into the thicket. Stay in the yard if you have to be disobedient.”
So she had gone with Kaleb to claim a bunk and listen after a few minutes of back and forth between the two. Sarah initially worried that her Gran would worry, and Kaleb slickly whispered in response that they may get more stories if they go to the bunkhouse. Who knows when they will get that chance again? So the girl gave in, because her curiosity and overall nosiness was not sated by supper and a brief glimpse. Kaleb was also very smart, he wouldn’t be wrong.
Now however, it felt like she had committed a crime. She pressed into herself and silently begged her Poppa to make her Granny see reason. See that talking to the Saurboys was better than helping with biscuits. They even had a lady Rider. So she glanced up pleadingly, the man holding her watching with a well oiled gaze of placidity. The look all his friends and family got when they invoked Gran’s wrath. She was on her own, made her own bed as it were. Sarah whined, turning back to the tall old woman, “Oh but Gran, Gran I didn’t wanna help! I wanted to talk!” Her grandmother narrowed her eyes, obviously unimpressed.
Sarah knew how to fix that, “They even have a Missus Rider! I couldn’t…Make…Coffee…” Gran bared her teeth, sparks flying in her eyes, Poppa decided it was then time to intervene. Shifting himself, knees popping, “Darlin, give the girl a bit of lead. She is just excited, no excuse to run off when chores are to be done.. Or to be snakey..” His voice carried like a rush of cool water, smooth and a slow drawl that erased any tension stamped into the air. “But still, we have work to do. A Pair won’t get themselves handled. How about you throw her in the creek later?” Warm eyed and squeezing the little girl the man winked, a flash of silvery eyelashes. Some of the hired help glanced with a keen sort of fondness for the old man and his bundle of a wild child. Even the rougher of the group softened as the little girl peeked out, those were the grumpy sort that had almost kicked the children out. But when food was hot and the morning cool, spirits felt a little more at ease with children being what they were.
Dorathy, a red hot iron of a woman let out a sharp breath of air, her hair having once matched that legendary temper now gray and almost limp with nerves. Scrunching her sharp hawkish nose she finally let the tension loose from her shoulders. “Allright…Allright Major..” Kaleb, being the stupid young boy he was, chose that time to slowly, cautiously sit up. As if the storm had passed. As if he was safe
The iron sights were set immediately, nostrils flared like a raptor on blood, “Get out of that bunk right now Kaleb, go get presentable and start helping out before I send you off as bait!” She snarled it, Kaleb wisely bolting before the threat was airborne and avoiding a swat as he went. He would later blush and be in a mood over being hanged, drawn and quartered in front of who he so deeply wanted to impress.
But Sarah could barely be embarrassed as she sat still firmly planted in her Pop’s lap, who was laughing. “Go on, go get dressed and start making it up to your Granny. Hightail it young’in.” She was gentle pushed at and let out an unhappy sigh, before doing as she was told. Almost boltingm before turning and making sure to hug her grandmother’s skirt who could only frown at her. Petting her grandaughter’s curls and letting loose a breath, “Alright, get moving. Get out of the way…Go straight for the house and get dressed.”
Sarah bobbed her head and quickly started for the door, avoiding boots and heavy people. Glancing back as her grandmother called,
No idea if this is within Dino guidelines but we got one! The world belongs to @quibble-auk and I just own the characters! If any of this feels off I can so go in and change it! Just feeling things out. Sorry if this is crappy, or y'know...Not great. Haven't written in a while.
But yeh!
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It was deep.
That sound of the sky and her voice.
Sarah held in her giggles as the winds rumbled and cooed along the heavy stones, the trees swaying in long groans. Music of the greenery, of the earth. That’s what her great grandmother said anyway, it was Freyda’s low throated humming that swept the forest. Sarah herself never wanted to take much stock in such whispers by the glowing coals, squatting by her aged elder and listening intently. It was better than laying in the dark, or trying to sleep while Freyda seemingly hummed.
Which to Sarah felt more like screaming as the storms flew by.
But, the idea of something so large being able to make such a racket from humming. Well, that was unnerving. Like so many things were to the young girl. Even now as she lightheartedly bounced over a log, dwelling on the thought spooked her.
So she instead called out, “Kaleb! Kaleeeee??” Sing songy and wild haired she rapidly flicked her eyes along the trees, having to crawl over her next wooden obstacle instead of jumping. She perched on top of the bark and held her hands out from her sides, mimicking a flier as she almost lost her balance. The girl hummed, biting her lip as she felt herself wilt. Grey stormy eyes almost turning to worry when no call answered her.
Another soft hum.
“Kale..?”
Her grandfather’s words echoed in the back of her mind, his scruffy streaked beard scratching her face as she was warned to never wander too far alone.
What if Kaleb hadn’t stormed off this way? Sarah suddenly felt small, a bob in her throat as she tucked her arms closer. She had seen her uncles shoot down large beasts that could just-
“You know there could be a snake under there, right?”
She yelped and promptly fell off the log, glancing under her once perch and scrambling back. A good sized hole was nestled under there- “C’mon Yoti seriously? You that fucking jumpy?” Wincing at the curse and now dirty from her fall Sarah shyly glanced up. Her cousin had stood to her right, now in a firm even stride across the fallen log. His not yet broad shoulders back, and frown firm as he scowled down at her. “What are you even doing out here? Poppa is gonna skin you for wandering out by yourself.”
His face set in that scowl, and hands now resting on the loops of his pants.
Sarah hummed weakly, before smiling a soft sweet smile. “I’m not by myself, you’re out here.” Her cousin blinked for a moment at that, opening his mouth before closing it again. Something swam there in his eyes, something Sarah knew meant that Kaleb wasn’t actually mad. He wasn’t actually angry when his cheeks were still so shiny, his voice wavering. She took that moment to try and stand, still happily smiling at her much larger cousin. The mud, due to the recent storms that had the girl scared stiff, however felt no need to release her. Not fully. She slipped and landed with a wet splat, Kaleb finally looking at her again. Eyebrows shooting up, “Oh hey hold on!” Finally, he hopped off the log to tend to the small girl, helping her up and ignoring the mud on her fingers as he squatted down to her level.
“Damn honey, you got mud all over.” Sarah huffed and flicked her eyes down her skirt and promptly ignored it. Kaleb however did not, his eyebrows knitting together as the young girl wrapped an arm around his neck with a sweet giggle. “ It’s ok. I found you, that’s all that matters.” She chirped it as she snuggled close, Kaleb smelling of gunpowder and sweat. But she couldn’t care, not when one of his strong arms wrapped around her lean frame and he pressed into the hug. It always felt good to hug Kaleb, he made everything feel less scary. So for Sarah that felt like the only right thing to give him, especially when his eyes are so red rimmed and hair all knotted from him probably running his scarred fingers through it.
Sarah could maybe…Make things less scary.
Kaleb, at the grown up age of fourteen sniffed as he cuddled his eight year old cousin. Pressing his sharp nose into her sun bleached curls and gulping. They sat that way for a moment, the two of them. Sarah the usually meek minnow in Kaleb’s raging uproar of rapids. She patted his back with a small and already calloused hand, which made the boy who felt like he should already be a man clear his throat. “Ok pipsqueak c’mon, we gotta get you washed off before Gran sees you and pitches a whole nine yard,” he scooped her up very close to roughly as he stood, making the little girl gasp, “ever loving fit.”
Sarah blinked and glanced down at her dress, a calico thing that’s barely too short for her. She had hit a growth spurt recently, something she was rather proud of. Biting her lip with a new anxiety she glanced at the boy. His earlier mood starting to flee her mind, his tearful stomp away from their Poppa. The angry embarrassed flush of his cheeks when him and the hunting party got back. “....You think she’ll…Be that mad?” Kaleb smiled his mean smile, which made Sarah rub at the dirt on her sleeve as her nerves spiked. “Oh yeah, teeth breaking horsewhipping mad.” Suddenly the dirt looked worse, darker and uglier, and Kaleb was being mean.
Tears burned the young girl’s eyes as she bit her lip, and then the boy quickly back tracked. His eyes widening and a curt sort of guilt tugged his mouth into a frown. “Hey! No cryin! Shoot Yoti, gotta be such a worrywort all the damn time.” He adjusted his grip and began to walk, carrying the girl who turned on a dime and bared her teeth. She slapped his shoulder and sniffed, “I aint no worrywort! I don’t wanna be horsewhipped!” Her anger, much to Kaleb’s dismay, quickly melted into worried whines and a break to the last word. “No- Aw Yoti. I was messing with ya. We’ll go down to the creek bed, it should still be running a little. Get your dress scrubbed a little, yeah?” She glanced up, eyes still glassy but now intrigued. He smiled a wide smile, not his mean spirited grin but a real gentle one. That was the one he wore when he let Sarah sit in his lap when they rode their duckbill. That smile that he let slip when Sarah kissed his cheek and told him he looked handsome in his new hat.
It was the best smile. So Sarah smiled back, Kaleb’s rough thumb catching any stray tears like he didn’t even want them in his sight. Didn’t want the memory to linger more than necessary, that he made the little girl, the only one who is never really mad at him, cry.
“Yeah! You could puddle around a little, get home quick as a raptor before Gran even knows what bit ‘er!” Soft giggles slipped from the girl as Kaleb bopped their heads, his red hair hanging in her face.
Quick as a raptor, she couldn’t argue. Not when Kaleb was so happy, not when he was so right all the time.
Finally did a normal and not overly stylized piece for Yoti! With her lovely boy Skyscraper. Because he scrapes....The sky....He's inspired by an old hen I had who was probably the most curious and affectionate bird I'd ever met. Very smart for some reason? But yeah, Yoti gets a dino chicken who she loves very much even if he is one of the most annoyingly clingy animals she has ever met.
She has holes in her coats from him just latching on. Its problem.
Very smug Altmuehlopterus. (Mouthful of a name for such a cute guy)
.
She is an oc (revamped but shhh) that I am shoehorning into my wonderful mutual's original project!!!! @quibble-auk has some amazing westerns with dinosaurs over on her blog, thoroughly recommend looking into it. Shes very talented.
Below the cut is the version without all my overdone lighting :D
I usually have an animal that pops into mind when I'm thinking about certain characters? It is one of my favorite parts of having ocs, and I discovered that these two in particular share a big one, but it presents itself in such different ways.
Yoti and Devin both make me think of Coyotes, scrappy and not seen with as much reverence of a wolf, or the comfort of a dog. They are clever, but they are not loved like a fox because of their wiles. No they are the animals that make people grimace because they are vermin, they are predators, they are adaptable.
Not affectionately thought of, tough. Wild and odd. But Yoti and Devin abuse their adaptable traits and outcast nature in different ways. One is a coward, the other is brave.
So I doodled!
@quibble-auk because she has been kind enough to let me start developing Yoti in her sandbox hehe.
