Rogue's Guide to Parenting

Stumbling upon the forest had been a godsend for the wayward Dalmatian pup. Following her previous travels through the Outlands, Missy felt much more secure in this new place. There was shelter here, places to hide and foliage to protect her, not to mention the near constant thrum of wildlife emanating from all sides. It was comforting in an odd way, as though she didn't have to feel alone with the ever present signs of life surrounding her. Although she still did her best to avoid company lest they be a danger to her. 

Though this thriving territory wasn't simply a source of safety for the Dalmatian. Noises meant other animals. Other animals meant food. Somewhere, at least. Missy still wasn't entirely sure how to go about finding prey, let alone what to do with it afterwards. Of course, she had a basic idea of what was involved: catch, then kill, then eat. But she was quite lacking in the experience department, and a part of her was was sure she'd make a botch of it if she tried. Hell, she couldn't even bark, why should she be able to do anything a dog is supposed to do?

She slowed to a stop as the narrow path she had been following came to an abrupt end. An expanse of shrubbery and thick-trunked trees narrowed into a wall of green before her, speckled with patches of light seeping through. Letting out a mildly irritated sigh, Missy forged on. Leaves rustled as she passed beneath a patch of bushes. She winced as twigs scraped along her back, snapping a few more with her paws as she bulled her way through. One got snagged on her collar, yanking her to a sudden and very uncomfortable stop. As she twisted and pulled, a growing sense of dread bubbled within her. What if she was stuck here, out here where no one could find her? Or worse, where someone could, and she had no means of escape.

No longer certain which way she was going and which she had come from, she threw all her weight backwards in a panic, and with a mighty crack the branch released its grasp. Daylight flooded her vision as Missy exploded from the bushes and tumbled into the clearing. Dazed, she shook her head and began to rise — only to recoil one she realised she was not alone.

"I— I—" she started, scrambling to her feet and edging backwards. The lioness was huge, with jaws as big as her skull and claws that could cut her to ribbons in a swipe. Glancing down, she spotted a second lion, a cub bigger than she was in spite of its youth. "P-please, I— I'm—"

The words just wouldn't form. In a last ditch effort, she bared her teeth and growled, though whatever fierce front a tiny thing like her could possibly muster would only be betrayed by the fear in her eyes.

That voice...

"You're just a cub," Nia realized at last. She ventured out a little further when Iseult instructed her to with her nudge. Doing so gave her a clear view of Missy. She was small, spotty, and black and white in color. On the surface, she did vaguely resemble a jackal. The key differences were in her fur style and the ears, Nia realized. That meant that the pup wasn't threatening, she concluded. That was the same sort of conclusion that Iseult must have come to. Iseult said that Missy was safe there, after all. That was all that Nia imagined Missy would need to hear. Then again... Iseult was bigger than the pup, and that might have made her more intimidating. Maybe, Nia thought, she could help coax her into being a little less afraid.

"It's okay," Nia said as she padded a little closer. "Izzy's super nice. She's helped me out a ton since I met her." Her tail flicked back and forth a little bit as a contented smile clung to her face. So far, so good. She was sincerely hoping that both her and Iseult's efforts would be enough to coax Missy into staying with them. From where Nia stood? It looked like Missy was in a situation similar to her own.

Nobody deserved to be on their own. Nobody, Nia told herself, deserved to go hungry and long for help with no one to give it. Her heart really was aching for this poor dalmatian.

They had to help her.

While Nia padded closer to Missy, Iseult remained standing where she was. Clever girl, she noted- no doubt her daughter had figured out it may have been better for her to coax Missy into relaxing somewhat, given that they appeared to be around the same age and size. Poor Missy looked utterly terrified- fear still very much evident on her expression and the initial twinge of sympathy Iseult felt only deepend. Too young to be alone, especially during a war. Where- where are your parents? Crimson eyes flicked over behind Missy, hoping that her parents were behind her and chasing after their pup but nobody came. Anger and bitterness flickered within Iseult’s eyes, not towards either child of course, but towards the situation. What is it with this world and forcing little kids to be alone? What monster keeps on making this happen?

Thankfully it seemed their attempts worked, if Missy no longer cowering was any indication. That’s it. There you are. Iseult noted as she tried to relax her posture in an attempt to convey that she truly meant no harm to the dalmatian. “You don’t have to trust us, but it is the truth. Neither of us will harm you.” Iseult spoke, tone once again softer and less harsher than usual.

So her name was Missy. Alright, they could work with that. “I’m Iseult. Izzy for short. And this little… Bucket of sunshine is Nia.” As an afterthought, they (awkwardly) added, “pleased to...Meet you.”

At the mention of a farm, confusion appeared on Iseult’s face. Being a wild big cat who had spent their entire life wandering around the merged worlds, they had rarely come into contact with the structures of the two legs, having avoided them. As such, the concept of a “farm” went right over their head. However, they did understand Missy’s lack of belonging, that was a universal feeling. Iseult felt her heartstrings being tugged again, although concern shone in crimson eyes- especially at Missy’s watering eyes. Oh no. You poor thing… Please don’t cry, please don’t cry- I don’t know how to handle tears.

But honestly, Iseult would be lying if they said tears hurt more than what was said next. At least tears could be wiped away and soothed away, but bone deep issues of loneliness and unbelonging was much harder. Much harder to help with, to comfort. Despite it being an uphill battle Iseult, however, was damn willing to try. Missy deserved as much. “Hey. It’s okay kid.” Although she would never admit it aloud Iseult wanted to place a paw on Missy’s back and rub it comfortingly, just like how her mothers used to, but she knew that would be a horrible idea. “You look like you needed to say that.” She murmured, deliberately ignoring the horrified look on the dalmatian’s face.

At Missy’s question to Nia, Iseult stepped away from their daughter and turned their gaze onto the shrubbery behind Missy once again, although for a different purpose. Iseult would be acting as look out while the cub spoke to the dalmatian. Get closer. They mused, just barely restraining themself from muttering the words aloud. The forest was vibrant with life, and so it would merely be a matter of time before another creature showed up-- Iseult was merely preparing for that.

Iseult's words settled her slightly, made her feel like slightly less of a freak for blurting out all those feelings she had tried for so long to keep buried deep beneath the surface. She'd thought for sure it would be enough to make them want to give her a wide berth, but they'd both remained seemingly undeterred by her outburst, Nia's positivity especially unyielding as she gave her answer.

"Y-You think so?" Missy asked softly, a hint of hopefulness in her voice. Her eyes darted briefly to Iseult, who appeared to have stepped out of the conversation for the moment. Missy still had some slight reservations toward the older lion. Though she had proven herself to be much less of a threat than Missy previously anticipated, the Dalmatian still had a hard time getting a proper read on her, so seemingly distant as she was. But if this tiny cub — who by all accounts was slowly worming herself into Missy's circle of trust, despite every thread of sense residing in her mind screaming at her not to let her guard down — could speak of her with so much love and utter belief, then perhaps there was more to this feline than there seemed.

The pup bristled slightly at Nia's sudden closeness, and just about froze in place as she gently bumped her head against Missy's own, so unaccustomed to such physical displays of affection. But after the initial spike of uncertainty and panic had subsided, Missy had to admit it felt... kind of nice? With a slow exhale, her muscles began to relax somewhat, though a thin layer of tension continued to hover over her.


Something clenched in her chest. Those tears that had danced at the corners of her eyes threatened to overspill once more, but she clenched her jaw and willed herself to keep them at bay. She didn't know what was wrong with her, why all of a sudden she was so close to falling apart. Was she really so weak? And in front of a couple of strangers, no less. Shame burned across her cheeks, but... she couldn't help but feel relief as well. As though some invisible burden had been lifted from her shoulders, or a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding had finally escaped her lungs.

The absence of Nia's body by her side pulled Missy abruptly from her thoughts and she stared up at the cub almost in a daze, as though expecting the rug to be pulled out from under her, and all of their kindness taken away. But Nia's expression remained just as sweet as it had been.

Missy almost hadn't comprehended the words, still swept up in her tangle of emotions, but as her mind finally made sense of the offer she became acutely aware of the hollow feeling inside her abdomen. 

"I mean, only if you don't mind—" she was cut off by a loud growl ripping from her stomach. An embarrassed half-smile appeared on her face. "Hunting's not as easy as I thought it'd be. There aren't many things smaller than me out here, and I never really... had to? Back at home I mean, our pets usually just gave us kibble, and that doesn't exactly run away," Missy attempted a lighthearted chuckle that came out more like a strained breath, but at least she wasn't blubbering away like she was before.