Howling Thunder Ch2.2

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“Youch!” I yelp as my little girl yanks on the bit of beard I’m growing.

Her pouty voice calls me, “Papa!”

Small sparks of blue energy drip from her silky blue furred tail as she points to my food.

“Alright, alright, just easy on the tugging kiddo.”

I spin her around to face the table in my lap and give her a bite of my eggs. One advantage of sitting with my daughter is that the noble girls of Yoden are no longer trying so poorly to seduce me.

Instead they fawn over the various dresses the little girl is always wearing. Lupa has started a new line of children's outfits to stay competitive with her family and the other city tailors. They’ve actually been so popular that she’s taking orders and working on them even in the den.

All the more impressive when one considers that she hasn’t slowed down after having my third son and second daughter.

Five kids in a single year, I’m sure Freki is thrilled. While I’m happy to meet them as soon as possible, you won't see me bragging to Walt with his single girl. Hopefully Sassa doesn't develop some sort of depression from not giving him a son.

A wad of potatoes hits my arm. To my left, on my sister’s lap, I spot a certain little harpy girl poorly acting like she had nothing to do with it.

Akane herself is also pretending nothing happened as she preens Iris’ pink feathers in her hair.

This little girl also likes to call me Papa. It’s not wrong, Mother and Grandmother fully intend to pair her with my oldest son. A replacement for the ending line of Turul Queens.

Looking at Iris’ hight now after nearly a whole year since hatching, I start to wonder. Especially when compared to my Tesla who was born only four months later.

Asking Mother to my other side, “How fast do Harpies grow anyway?”

The Inari glances past me before taking a drink of her morning sake, “Normal harpies, the ones with wings for arms like the Turul instead of separate as hers are, reach maturity in five years. Iris should take around seven. You pups took nine, one more than normal wolf clansmen. I expect Tesla to mature just past eight due to her Jackal side.”

Interesting, but this brings up another question, “What about lifespan?”

Mother sighs and answers quietly, “Ask the gods pup, but I suppose I should tell you now. While that little demigod, Iris, may never age a day past her prime, your mates… Lupa shouldn’t make it far beyond forty, and Patra around fifty.”

My fork pauses causing Tesla to whine a little.

What an awful thing to say at breakfast out of the blue.

That’s right however, they’re just pure wolf beastmen. No mystical bloodlines, no ancient, half demon ancestors.

“What about Asta and I, this little one aswell.”

She nods, “Asta may live a couple hundred or so years at most. You should have a few centuries beyond that assuming you don’t do something ridiculous and get yourself killed. Little Tess could be anywhere in that range really, it is too early to estimate.”

Lovely, “Mora?”

Mother plays with her food a moment, “Ice nymphs aren’t quite mortal to begin with and dragons have a vast range. Mraz was just over a thousand I think, young according to the Raijin but he stretches the truth sometimes. I don’t know…”

Her eyes narrow and she shoots me a quick glare, “You didn’t hear me say that.”

As if the world would end if the masses learned the Inari wasn’t actually all knowing.

I glance down at the little one playing with my potatoes. Suppose I should cheer up before Tess notices, I’m leaving later today after all.

Grabbing a spoon full of breakfast mush, I rest it on edge of my plate. A quick chop of my hand on the handle sends food sailing across the table and right into my unconscious brother's ear.

Walt jerks awake with a start and falls out of his seat. Our new army commander ladies and gentlemen.

His head pops up from under the table and his scowl does nothing to stop the laughter of Tesla.

Mother takes a drink to hide the smile on her face.

I load up the spoon again and line it up towards Iris, Tesla is a little over eager to try and miss hits the spoon. The wad of food hits Akane’s drink and nearly spills it into her lap if not for her quick catch.

Iris sticks out her tongue.

One more time I scoop up some food and begin to point it out towards the other folks.

When it points towards General Otso, Tesla shakes her head. Lined up for Grandma Hyndla, again she shakes her head.

“Really? You like Grandma?!”

I swear I catch Hyndla smirking ever so slightly.

Towards the fenrir, the girl starts nodding. I help her aim this time. The food gets an arm length from father before freezing solid and dropping to the table.

He laughs, “Maybe next time little one.”

Tesla frowns and begins looking at me while smacking the table. I set up the breakfast catapult three more times towards Father but each time it fails, the last time he even went so far as to catch it in his mouth.

I chuckle, “Father you better not make her mad today.”

With a smile, “Aye son I won't, be sure to get some rest before this afternoon. I’ll see you two in my study.”

Standing up with Tess I head out of the hall. I leave the feather staff with Mother, it’s really not mine to take as I please, especially if I’m leaving on a trip. The adults collectively decided that in order to avoid angering Iris’ father, the god Zephyr, the staff is only to be allowed use for things which could be considered protecting Iris’. The staff is hers, I’m just borrowing it once and awhile.

Stopping near Mora who was waiting at the side with the guards, “I’m going to take a nap in the tower, take Tess to play with Iris for the morning. We’ll meet up this afternoon.”

She points at my shoulder, “I think the little one is a step ahead of you.”

Glancing down, Tesla is fast asleep, drooling on my jacket.

“Lovely, guess we’re all going to the tower. Do you mind reading in my room? I’m still afraid she’ll roll off the bed in her sleep or something.”

Mora nods with a small smile and follows me out.

It takes a bit longer to get to my small part of the castle while I try not to wake up the sparker.

My tower has slowly taken some personality over the last year despite me spending the majority of my time at Patra’s shop. Black curtains hang over all the windows while torches line the walls. The main door into the tower has been swapped out for one made of the black wood from the woods near the den, one day I’ll have it carved.

Pass the door and you wouldn’t think you were in one of the higher towers. I’ll admit, I had a bit too much fun collecting things to create a haunting theme. The stone stairs are cloaked in a river of cascading mist. It’s railing replaced with twisted black roots which spiral all the way up to the dark ceiling from which hangs a special breed of dark, willow tree.

The black branches hang down the length of the tower center. Playing amongst the eerie vines and roots are several will-o-wisps, caught from a swamp to the west and sold in a shadier part of town. These normally pesky spirits provide the only light within the stair well alongside a scant few torches alight with magical blue flames.

Hevel helped me create the space. The tree actually thrives in the dark and a small pool which floods the base of the stairway. I raised the door slightly so that when you enter it seems like you step out onto a dock in a bog. I’m hoping to find an interesting collection of fish to fill the pond eventually. My willow will even attack unwelcome guests, tying them up in it’s branches.

Speaking of which, a vine curls down and playfully scratches Tesla behind her ears.

I pat the branch, “Easy Whompy, she’s asleep.”

It makes a nodding motion in understanding as a couple wisps move to light my way up the stairs. These have been rather entertaining to train, the only issue I haven’t figured out is that no matter what, they swarm around Walt whenever he enters. Affectionately too, it’s very odd.

My room at the top of the tower is now decorated with more dark wood from the BlackWood, roots from the willow creep in here and there. My bookshelves are slowly filling up with strange stories and texts from traveling merchants, there's even a couple books on necromancy. Mother was upset when she saw them but I argued it was better to be prepared than ignorant.

Next to my desk is a slightly out of place looking playpen for Tesla. I can imagine the faces of the mothers in the den if they saw the dangerous seeming collection of toys made by Patra. Everything is crafted from lightweight metals which are highly conductive. Chief among them a tower of narrow rails that create a track for large balls. They roll, twist, and loop among an ever growing collection of moving parts. It’s very fun to watch.

Mora takes a seat at the chair she picked out for herself and pulls out one of the books I bought for her.

I carefully lay down on the bed, leaning slightly against the headrest and pillows to support Tesla in my arms and doze off.

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