The Calm After the Storm

[Ryuukokoro]

Glancing at my darkened kitchen windows, I could see the white flurries that had been swirling beyond the glass for the past two days were finally gone. "Mmm. Looks like the wind's finally died down," I murmured to myself, turning the stove down low so the thick stew in the pot didn't boil over, before crossing to the window to peer outside. It was early evening at the foot of the mountain where I called home, the snow coating my front yard a sparkling pale blue as the sun withdrew from the landscape.

A steady thump-thump-thump drew my attention, and I turned toward the side-room that branched off from my kitchen. A plastic gate there in the doorway barred entrance to the cozy little room, but that didn't stop a capranis with soft green and white fur from sprawling across the kitchen floor, pressing his pink nose against the gate, gazing intently within as his curled fluffy tail beat a happy rhythm against the floor.

"Sunder, you know you can't go in there right now," I chided, returning to the stove to stir my dinner. The tempo of the billy's tail against the floor increased in response to my use of his name.

Inside the little room, Blu curled around four tiny squirming bodies. I gazed in over the gate as I stirred, checking on the new arrivals and admiring the first (and very successful!) litter of my kennel.

Although the Inse breed was the primary focus of Dragon Heart Kennel--and I had great hopes for Hotaru, my lead dog, for both breeding and competitions--the Eski were such a hardy breed that they had adapted quite well to the cold climate of the Luin Mountain chain where my kennel was located. In the end I had decided to have my first breeding between Sunder, a wonderful stud I had stumbled upon by pure chance, being in the right place at the right time when the seller was looking to rehome the purebred Eski billy. And I had paired him with my newest capranis, a beautiful girl I called Blu, with such striking markings that I scarcely believed I had gotten a chance to bring her home with me.

Being a small operation and running a kennel almost completely by myself (although a few nearby neighborhood kids came onto the farm part-time to help me exercise and feed the caprani) I very rarely beat out the big time kennels out there that had a lot of financial backing. My kennel was a result of pure love and hard work, and although I only had a few caprani, I was proud that I could compete with the big boys.

And I certainly had competed this time! My first litter was beyond my wildest expectations. After months of preparing, getting the old farm house ready for new little ones, and finding the perfect pair to start my breeding project, the result had been better than I could have ever dreamed.

I bent over to rub Sunder behind his horns where he liked it, and watched as Blu suddenly rose to her feet and stepped out of the large basket to cross the room and eat and drink from the food and water bowls left out for her.

Immediately the four pups started sending out inquisitive bleats as they discovered their warmth and milk was gone. I took the chance to examine how they were developing now that Blu's body wasn't wrapped around them.

The first was a beautiful dark-furred nanny that stood out as the only female in the litter, her body a blending of blue and green above, and snowy white below. Simple compared to her brothers (who were as wildly marked as their mother) but she seemed the quietest and calmest, perhaps the most intelligent. She was content to sit with her legs folded under her, her little pink nose in the air, trying to decipher where their milk-giver had gone. But not vocally demanding her return.

The next was a striking male with colors that reminded me of the northern lights, a mixture of blues, greens, and cyan. He was more than loud enough to make up for his sister's quiet nature. Desperate for his mother, he had thrown back his head and was letting loose with the tiniest, forlorn little howls as if his world was positively ending. Little drama queen in newborn form.

The third seemed to be an even mixture of both parents. His back was a blending of dark blue and emerald, like a peacock's feathers, which faded to paler cyan swirls on his legs. Although the litter's eyes were just barely opening now and I couldn't be sure, I thought perhaps he would be bi-eyed when their eyes fully opened. It seemed like his left eye would be ice blue and his right would be amber, though I knew I had to wait to be sure. He seemed to be a very energetic pup. He was the one I usually noticed climbing around the basket while the others fed and/or slept.

The last boy, I knew was going to be trouble. All four paws splayed in four opposite directions, he crawled across the forest green blanket lining the puppy basket, his nose nudging to and fro, searching for the milk and warmth he was missing. Not quite coordinated enough to stand, he flopped across the basket like a baby seal and ran smack into the side, scrunching up his little nose in disappointment. Half the time he ended up upside down as he flopped around, getting the tips of his horn nubs hooked in the fabric of the blanket and bleating frantically until he yanked himself free.

All in all, it was a beautiful litter. "You two are amazing," I said, looking down at my Eski pair. Blu didn't respond to my voice, focused on drinking her fill from the water bowl. Sunder pricked up his ears and twitched them once, but was only eyeing the gate, wondering if I would open it.

"All right, enough staring!" I said. "Come on, let's go out for a walk." I turned the pot on the stove down to simmer so it wouldn't get cold as I crossed to the kitchen door. Sunder picked up his head at the word that he knew but still hesitated until I grabbed his harness, a dark forest green that complimented his coat, off the peg by the door. I shook it so the metal clasps jingled and Sunder got to his feet and padded to the door.

"Good boy, let's have a run with the sled, see if we can work that worry off you." The kitchen was quiet now as I put his harness on. Blu must have returned to the blanket once she had finished refueling.

The well-trained Eski held still until I was done, then stood by the door and slipped out as soon as I opened it. I closed the kitchen door behind us and followed Sunder across the snow-encrusted yard, toward the shed where we kept our equipment. "Ready for a work out?" I asked him.

The Eski's ears were perked upright, his tail a jaunty plume that curled over his back. He was all focus now that we were outside and ready to do some work. As soon as I opened the shed door, Sunder moved right to the sled and stopped in front of it, ready and waiting to be hooked up to the lead.

"Good boy," I told him, pleased at how well he remembered his training. This was going to be a good workout for the both of us, and afterward I had a warm dinner and a house full of my lovely critters waiting for me.

Fin