He shoots one duck with success and amidst the thunk of his arrow, the flapping of wings as the duck's companion takes flight, there comes a whoosh of a blur between his legs. A massive body knocks his feet out from under him and he falls back on his rear.
When Finland sits back upright, angry with a bruised tailbone, he spots the wolf - of course it's the same one, it has to be - a distance off, where the duck is, its head bowed.
"Damn stupid wolf!" he shouts at it.
The wolf responds by shaking the duck out by the neck. The blood gets thrown in squirts, either side of the wolf's jaws. "What, you want to kill it even more? I already shot it," Finland replies.
Ignoring him, the wolf gets a firm hold on the duck's neck and trots back happily. Finland could swear it's smiling around that duck. "I hope you enjoy it, you jerk," Finland says, getting up, "just leave some for me next time, you know, I have to eat too -"
The wolf plops the dead duck at Finland's feet.
Then it sits back on its hind legs again and looks up at Finland with big green eyes.
Then it smiles and pants, as though expecting a reward.
Oh, he realises.
It seems he's found a friend.
"What am I going to do with you," Finland asks.
It whines a reply and noses the duck carcass atop his boots, where it bleeds onto the leather. Finland tries really hard not to be too disgusted. The wolf probably means well.
--
He shoots another three ducks - they are small things, this time of year - and each time, the wolf races ahead to fetch them. It shakes them by the neck, possibly to snap the bones, although Finland knows perfectly well he's a good shot and the ducks are dead to begin with. Then it brings back the dead duck to Finland.
Each time, Finland could swear the wolf is grinning. When the wolf retrieves the last duck, without thinking he reaches out a hand and pats the wolf on its big furry head, before he even realises what he's done.
But little Fenrir doesn't clamp down and make off with Tyr's right hand, so Finland supposes he's safe (or that Norway's myths don't apply in his lands - whichever).
Three ducks for his dinner party. One for the wolf.
This day is getting to him, he thinks, when he gives the last duck back to the wolf and says, "For you. You helped, after all," and he swears to his gods that the wolf smiles at him before plunging its muzzle into the duck's bloody breast, feathers and all.
ALSO THAT WAS 1A/4 ah crap. And this is 1b/4
He shoots one duck with success and amidst the thunk of his arrow, the flapping of wings as the duck's companion takes flight, there comes a whoosh of a blur between his legs. A massive body knocks his feet out from under him and he falls back on his rear.
When Finland sits back upright, angry with a bruised tailbone, he spots the wolf - of course it's the same one, it has to be - a distance off, where the duck is, its head bowed.
"Damn stupid wolf!" he shouts at it.
The wolf responds by shaking the duck out by the neck. The blood gets thrown in squirts, either side of the wolf's jaws. "What, you want to kill it even more? I already shot it," Finland replies.
Ignoring him, the wolf gets a firm hold on the duck's neck and trots back happily. Finland could swear it's smiling around that duck. "I hope you enjoy it, you jerk," Finland says, getting up, "just leave some for me next time, you know, I have to eat too -"
The wolf plops the dead duck at Finland's feet.
Then it sits back on its hind legs again and looks up at Finland with big green eyes.
Then it smiles and pants, as though expecting a reward.
Oh, he realises.
It seems he's found a friend.
"What am I going to do with you," Finland asks.
It whines a reply and noses the duck carcass atop his boots, where it bleeds onto the leather. Finland tries really hard not to be too disgusted. The wolf probably means well.
--
He shoots another three ducks - they are small things, this time of year - and each time, the wolf races ahead to fetch them. It shakes them by the neck, possibly to snap the bones, although Finland knows perfectly well he's a good shot and the ducks are dead to begin with. Then it brings back the dead duck to Finland.
Each time, Finland could swear the wolf is grinning. When the wolf retrieves the last duck, without thinking he reaches out a hand and pats the wolf on its big furry head, before he even realises what he's done.
But little Fenrir doesn't clamp down and make off with Tyr's right hand, so Finland supposes he's safe (or that Norway's myths don't apply in his lands - whichever).
Three ducks for his dinner party. One for the wolf.
This day is getting to him, he thinks, when he gives the last duck back to the wolf and says, "For you. You helped, after all," and he swears to his gods that the wolf smiles at him before plunging its muzzle into the duck's bloody breast, feathers and all.
(I knew I was gonna screw something up hahah)