faderift | puppy post (man, i love being able to write that unironically)

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puppy post (man, i love being able to write that unironically)

WHO: Puppy and all of Skyhold
WHAT: surveying his domain and looking for new friends
WHEN: Cullen's been back at Skyhold since the second week of August, so Puppy has also been back
WHERE: anywhere he can get to, and that's almost everywhere

Puppy is growing, both in size and in personality. Adelaide warned about the size he'd reach, but Cullen is still a little amazed at how quickly he's coming into it. He's never seen a mabari grow up from a puppy before. Pretty soon, his temporary-turned-de-facto-permanent name is going to be rather ridiculous. That is not a concern for today, though. No, the concern for today is that he's wandered away from Cullen. Again. Something about you has caught his attention, and while it's very easy to become the subject of his focus, it's almost impossible to shake him.

[[OOC: If you don't want Cullen to come looking for Puppy, just say so, and you can have your whole thread with the cuter half of the pair.]]

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Is puppy giant, or is Kif just tiny? The eternal question. Not that the mabari seems the slightest bit put off by Kif's attempt to shoo him away. Not at all. He pads into the kitchen, expecting to be welcomed. He is welcome (or at the very least tolerated), one of the apprentice cooks even addresses him directly and gives him some scraps from breakfast. If any dog is going to be tolerated in this place, of course it will be the COmmander's. When he's finished receiving his snack and attention, he wanders closer to Kif, wanting to see what's got him so upset.

He's awfully high strung for a cook. The cooks aren't usually high strung. Or this glittery, for that matter.

He finishes making the sandwich while constantly glancing over. It's a wonder he hasn't made a mess, really, seeing as most of his focus is on the dog.

"Back?" This is why he doesn't like anything Fereldan. This, and so many other things, but right now it's dogs in particular. "Shoo. Shoooooooooo." It's not working. Weren't the bigger ones supposed to know what someone was saying? Kif looks around for help and finds no one.

"Go... something. This isn't for you." The dog isn't going. Clearly this means Kif should try to pick up the plate and sidestep nervously.

Puppy understands that the sandwich isn't for him. He's not sure why the elf keeps on repeating it. It's not as though Puppy is hurting for food, and he has no issue with Kif not wanting to give him any.

Very high strung. Nervous. That's no good. He should take some time and rest. It's a feeling Puppy often has about his master. Puppy isn't large enough to force Cullen to lie down and nap, but Kif looks pretty scrawny. Puppy takes a trailing end of a ridiculous coat in his mouth and tugs. Testing.

It's now that the relative size issues with a big dog and a small elf starts to sink in, as his coat is tugged and he stumbles. Hastily Kif puts the sandwich back on the counter and tugs his coat back. If it gets a little torn he doesn't mind too much; it's one of his least favorite outfits. Blaming its destruction on a dog will make Zapp rant but he'll rant about Fereldans. That's win-win.

Unfortunately, he's not managing to free his coat. He keeps tugging because he doesn't have any better ideas, muttering about Orlesian lace and dirty dogs. In a last-ditch effort to get free, Kif braces his feet and tugs with all his might... only to slip on the floor and wind up on his back, hating the world, hating the slippers Zapp insisted he wear, and above all, hating dogs.

Puppy, meanwhile, just whuffs happily. That's the ticket. Finally, this one is grasping the idea of taking a break. Puppy crowds in, front paws on Kif's chest, and licks his face and exposed neck. The cooks don't seem overly concerned, partly because there are only a few in this area of the kitchen at this time of the day, but mostly because they have work to do. Kif is welcome to try and struggle free, but his chances are plummeting the longer he spends letting Puppy get comfortable.

This is his life. Something larger bowling him over and then just holding him down. He could struggle. He could push at the dog. But in the end, would it do anything? He's pretty sure the answer is no, and doesn't see a point in fighting only to confirm that answer.

Kif deflates with a heavy, put-upon sigh.

Well, at least he is accepting of Puppy's clear wisdom. Puppy licks his face for a few more moments, and then climbs the rest of the way onto his chest, curling into his own little nap ball on top of him. They can nap together. It's nice and warm in the kitchens, here tucked out of the way and surrounded by the smell of baking bread. It's a nice place for a nap. A very nice place for a nap.

After a few moments, Kif realizes the horrible indignity that's been bestowed upon him. The dog is asleep.

"Maker, why?" He tries to push his way free with a grunt of effort, but gets nowhere. He has dog slobber on his face, and he's now a dog bed. It could be worse. It could be Zapp passed out on top of him. But even that's not too much worse, and the tiles are digging into his back. "I hate Skyhold."

At least Puppy is warm, though he will not be moved. He's heavy and contented. Kif's shoving registers in his mind as a massage, if anything. It's not an indignity, though. Not in Puppy's mind. Kif seems kind-natured, and like a good safe partner for a nap.

Though Kif is in luck, because the owner of this very heavy nap partner is currently looking for him.

The cooks don't even seem to notice, which is mildly annoying but Kif isn't surprised. Who would try to help budge this lump? And then footsteps approach, and he wonders if he should bother calling out. The floor is awful, but this is time he doesn't have to spend looking after Zapp. ...Who is probably making an even larger mess.

"Hello?" he winds up calling.

Cullen doesn't answer at first, not sure that anyone is talking to him. It's chatter from the kitchen. Well, not chatter, because at this time of day it's really just the apprentices with the bread. Though just because a meal isn't being prepared, that doesn't mean that Puppy won't come and try for scraps. Which he has apparently done, because Cullen can hear the soft even murmur of the dog's snoring. "Hey boy, did you find a... rug?" From this angle, Kif is really just a pile of fabric in far too many competing colours and textures.

A rug. He's just been called a rug. It's not the worst thing he's been called, by any means, and it's at least new. But really?

"Uncultured, heavy... I'm not a rug! Or a pillow. Or anything of that sort!"

Oh for crying out loud. Cullen can't help but laugh, though it's with a look of mild distress on his face. It shouldn't be funny, but it's funny. He clears his throat, and raps his knuckles sharply against his breastplate, causing Puppy to startle awake. "Come here, you. Get off that poor person."

The mabari obeys quickly, coming to sit next to Cullen, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Cullen looks down at what he can now quite clearly see is an elf on the floor. "Are you all right?" he asks, extending his hand to help him up.

Now the person is laughing at him. Kif can feel his ire rising until he gets a look at the man offering a hand out. Human, dressed well, very probably someone with some sort of authority that Kif shouldn't aggravate. He deflates all over again as he takes the man's hand.

"I'll be fine," he says a little mournfully. He's going to have to wash everything, and at least one of the nicer ornamental buttons is broken so he'll have to replace that too.

And then his words catch up to him, and he looks at the human with some horror in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to call you uncultured. Sir." Because going by the bearing, this man has to be a sir. "I couldn't see and he was heavy." He's here to clean up Zapp's messes, not make more, even if this man sounds utterly Fereldan and has a dog.

Cullen just chuckles. "I'm Fereldan," he points out, unintentionally confirming Kif's assumption. "You... are Orlesian, I take it? By your definition of it, I'm quite uncultured." He doesn't sound offended, mostly because he's not. He would hate to be cultured by Orlesian standards. He much prefers being a man of action, being useful, and having no lace whatsoever upon his person.

He stands there, a bit dwarved, or elved, really, listening to the chuckle and not hearing any condescension in the man's voice. Maybe there's barbs in the way the man says Orlesian, but Kif isn't surprised. Fereldans will never admit the truth of Orlesian superiority.

"I still wouldn't call you uncultured to your face," Kif finally replies. "You have a big dog."

Considering the man, it might be a mabari. Kif hasn't seen one before, but it's huge and it had certainly smelled and obeyed right to be one. Speaking of smell... Kif looks down and sighs. He'll have to clean these again, but for now he's just going to dip his hands in the washbasin and get back to making Zapp's lunch on a large plate, with his own on a smaller plate.

"Have you ever had a sandwich? It's Orlesian." There's pride in his voice there.

"Tiny little pieces of soft bread, runny cheese, something called cress, cut into decorative shapes? I've had them." He'd been wholly unimpressed with tea and sandwiches in Orlais. Even Puppy hadn't really wanted them. Still, Cullen had made the attempt. For Adelaide.

He hopes to never have to do so again. He doesn't fit in in Orlais. It's not for him.

Kif shudders.

"Not those." Those are always unpleasant, and he doesn't care who knows he thinks so. At least no one's tried to make him eat that sort of sandwich, though. There are perks to not being seen as worth the 'nice' food.

"I mean like this." He gestures to the larger pieces of bread in front of him, two on Zapp's plate, one, halved, on his, before starting to add small stacks of meat. "The bread makes it easy to hold so you're not interrupted from your daily hounding of anyone you see as a peasant by something so basic as needing to eat."

His expression is perfectly schooled, but there might have been just a little disdain in his voice for a brief moment there. "Or other tasks that might actually be important."

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puppy post (man, i love being able to write that unironically)

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