HOME | DD

Description
Lance sat down, hard, as he took in what lay behind his front door.

A wyngling, who, when they saw Lance, scrambled to sit up and held up a letter, which had his name on the envelope.

"... What are you doing here, kid?" Lance asked, eyeing them warily. He had an inkling of what this was, but....

"Mama," the kid sniffled, rubbing at the corners of his eyes. The poor thing looked like he'd been crying for a while. "Mama, she- she told me to wait here for you to come out. She said, she, she said you're my, my papa, and she said that, that you would, b-be able to t-take c-c-care of...." The wyngling let go of the letter at that point, letting out a long wail and burying his face in his paws.

Lance had a troubled expression on her face as she picked up the letter and opened it. Sure enough, the contents detailed the date of her encounter with this wyngling's mother, and basically said that his mom had run out of money and patience for raising a wyngling and didn't have the funds to pay the fee to send him to the nook. She basically told Lance that she could keep the kid or pay the fee herself if she chose to take him there. That surely, with her kameeze farm, Lance would be able to take care of such a thing herself.

But Lance knew she didn't have the money for those fees. Sure, her kameeze farm was profitable, but she had to save up for the winter months, and it was spring - she was still on a tight budget while she waited for her kameeze to begin making honey again after the cold season was up. And she had heard through the grapevine that the "modest fee" required to drop off a wyngling at the nook since those chii-damned rattlefolk came to town wasn't so modest.

With a big intake of breath, Lance tamped down her nervousness. She would find some way to take care of this wyngling. "L-look," she said, trying to sound gentle with the kid, "I-I'm not.... I mean, I'll help you until I have the money to send you to the nook, I just...."

She was surprised when the wyngling launched himself at one of her front legs, still hiccupping and sobbing violently, getting tears and snot all over her. She tried not to make a face, but it was definitely gross. If she couldn't handle this much, how would she be able to raise this thing on her own? "Hey, just... come inside," she tried to coax him, nudging him towards the door. "We'll get you settled for now, find you some food and a place to sleep. That sound okay?"

The wyngling sniffled and nodding, letting go of Lance to follow her into the house.

An hour or so later, she was laying on one end of her couch, watching the wyngling, who was named Icarus, sleep on the other end, curled up under a blanket that Lance had given him. The poor thing was exhausted from the morning he had had. Lance had had to forego the errands she was going to run today to look after him, and she had no idea what she was going to do from here on. She'd never wanted a child. Hell, she'd never experienced actual attraction, she just liked locking because it felt good and knew which wyngrew were aesthetically pleasing to her. She'd thought Icarus's mother was nice when they met, though the memory was fuzzy in the back of her mind.

Apparently not, from the impatient and bitter tone of that letter. If Icarus's mother had never wanted an egg in the first place, she shouldn't have agreed to stay with Lance that night. Lance wasn't the one who would have the egg, and she had never agreed to take on that sort of responsibility.

Lance couldn't help the long sigh that escaped her. She had no idea what she was going to do now - if she was going to be feeding two wyngrew, it would take even longer to save up the funds to send Icarus to the nook. And she did feel a little bad about the idea, because he seemed to be so immediately attached to her, and had just lost his mother whom he was very clearly fond of. But Lance didn't know anything about raising a kid, and he would be better off in the hands of experienced caretakers. All she knew in that moment was one singular thing - she had to do her best, however poorly her best might turn out, until she could solve this problem.

yknow. im gonna be honest. lance was not in icarus's plot at all when i started working on it, but then i had an epiphany when i was submitting icarus and i was just like. oh. oh this is gonna be great. both of them are in for a fun ride

max wyn

Description
Lance sat down, hard, as he took in what lay behind his front door.

A wyngling, who, when they saw Lance, scrambled to sit up and held up a letter, which had his name on the envelope.

"... What are you doing here, kid?" Lance asked, eyeing them warily. He had an inkling of what this was, but....

"Mama," the kid sniffled, rubbing at the corners of his eyes. The poor thing looked like he'd been crying for a while. "Mama, she- she told me to wait here for you to come out. She said, she, she said you're my, my papa, and she said that, that you would, b-be able to t-take c-c-care of...." The wyngling let go of the letter at that point, letting out a long wail and burying his face in his paws.

Lance had a troubled expression on her face as she picked up the letter and opened it. Sure enough, the contents detailed the date of her encounter with this wyngling's mother, and basically said that his mom had run out of money and patience for raising a wyngling and didn't have the funds to pay the fee to send him to the nook. She basically told Lance that she could keep the kid or pay the fee herself if she chose to take him there. That surely, with her kameeze farm, Lance would be able to take care of such a thing herself.

But Lance knew she didn't have the money for those fees. Sure, her kameeze farm was profitable, but she had to save up for the winter months, and it was spring - she was still on a tight budget while she waited for her kameeze to begin making honey again after the cold season was up. And she had heard through the grapevine that the "modest fee" required to drop off a wyngling at the nook since those chii-damned rattlefolk came to town wasn't so modest.

With a big intake of breath, Lance tamped down her nervousness. She would find some way to take care of this wyngling. "L-look," she said, trying to sound gentle with the kid, "I-I'm not.... I mean, I'll help you until I have the money to send you to the nook, I just...."

She was surprised when the wyngling launched himself at one of her front legs, still hiccupping and sobbing violently, getting tears and snot all over her. She tried not to make a face, but it was definitely gross. If she couldn't handle this much, how would she be able to raise this thing on her own? "Hey, just... come inside," she tried to coax him, nudging him towards the door. "We'll get you settled for now, find you some food and a place to sleep. That sound okay?"

The wyngling sniffled and nodding, letting go of Lance to follow her into the house.

An hour or so later, she was laying on one end of her couch, watching the wyngling, who was named Icarus, sleep on the other end, curled up under a blanket that Lance had given him. The poor thing was exhausted from the morning he had had. Lance had had to forego the errands she was going to run today to look after him, and she had no idea what she was going to do from here on. She'd never wanted a child. Hell, she'd never experienced actual attraction, she just liked locking because it felt good and knew which wyngrew were aesthetically pleasing to her. She'd thought Icarus's mother was nice when they met, though the memory was fuzzy in the back of her mind.

Apparently not, from the impatient and bitter tone of that letter. If Icarus's mother had never wanted an egg in the first place, she shouldn't have agreed to stay with Lance that night. Lance wasn't the one who would have the egg, and she had never agreed to take on that sort of responsibility.

Lance couldn't help the long sigh that escaped her. She had no idea what she was going to do now - if she was going to be feeding two wyngrew, it would take even longer to save up the funds to send Icarus to the nook. And she did feel a little bad about the idea, because he seemed to be so immediately attached to her, and had just lost his mother whom he was very clearly fond of. But Lance didn't know anything about raising a kid, and he would be better off in the hands of experienced caretakers. All she knew in that moment was one singular thing - she had to do her best, however poorly her best might turn out, until she could solve this problem.

yknow. im gonna be honest. lance was not in icarus's plot at all when i started working on it, but then i had an epiphany when i was submitting icarus and i was just like. oh. oh this is gonna be great. both of them are in for a fun ride

max wyn