Fonn has been absorbed in her work, but it's impossible to miss a fiery, winged lioness approaching. She's not sure what to do! She should protect the kittens, but she shouldn't just assume a strange creature means them ill, and anyway the anti-violence field ought to protect them, right? Maybe if she talks to the lion, it--
"Hey!" She squawks, startled by the unexpected snatch-and-grab move. "Wait, no! Stop, you can't just..."
Her outrage stutters and dies when she realizes this is a mothering instinct in action, rather than a theft or a hunt. Well, this can't be their actual biological mother. Fonn has seen the adult winged cats and they're...not burning lions. Still, the similarity, on a much smaller scale, is undeniable.
Leaving her bag and her crochet where she was sitting, she walks toward the makeshift nest, hands out so the lion can see she's not threatening any of them. "I mean...they do need some mothering, but I actually wanted to keep the little white one," she protests quietly. "She keeps falling asleep in my apron pocket."
She really hopes the lioness can carry on a conversation, because negotiating is going to be tricky here. Meanwhile, it's clear that she's done as much as she could for them. They're all flea-free, hydrated and clean. One of the blue ones has a mild respiratory infection that's been treated but hasn't cleared up yet, and while they may smell of dish-soap rather than the nesting-babies smell they ought to have to an animal's nose, they seem content enough.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-07-03 06:17 pm (UTC)"Hey!" She squawks, startled by the unexpected snatch-and-grab move. "Wait, no! Stop, you can't just..."
Her outrage stutters and dies when she realizes this is a mothering instinct in action, rather than a theft or a hunt. Well, this can't be their actual biological mother. Fonn has seen the adult winged cats and they're...not burning lions. Still, the similarity, on a much smaller scale, is undeniable.
Leaving her bag and her crochet where she was sitting, she walks toward the makeshift nest, hands out so the lion can see she's not threatening any of them. "I mean...they do need some mothering, but I actually wanted to keep the little white one," she protests quietly. "She keeps falling asleep in my apron pocket."
She really hopes the lioness can carry on a conversation, because negotiating is going to be tricky here. Meanwhile, it's clear that she's done as much as she could for them. They're all flea-free, hydrated and clean. One of the blue ones has a mild respiratory infection that's been treated but hasn't cleared up yet, and while they may smell of dish-soap rather than the nesting-babies smell they ought to have to an animal's nose, they seem content enough.