Stitch by Stitch
(Dragato/ Tali/ Gravel / Ramset)
(Dragato/ Tali/ Gravel / Ramset)
It was a common fact that nobody was ever really prepared for a baby. Didn’t matter how many classes you took or books you read or how many kids you babysat. Learning to take care of a baby – your own baby – was a challenge that nobody would ever be ready for, no matter who they were.
Dragato exemplified that than he would have preferred to.
He’d known he was going to be in over his head when he’d chosen to be Tali’s father. He hadn’t had anything; no baby furniture or toys or any other necessities like formula and toiletries or whatever else. He hadn’t even known he was going to have a baby up until the egg in his care hatched into one. Not being ready was an understatement, honestly.
But by NOVA he had not expected to be this unprepared.
It should have occurred to him sooner that perhaps a child hatched from a North Novan egg was meant for a North Novan way of life. That a child of North Nova had to fight to survive, and so necessitated coming into the world thrashing like a demon beast and far stronger any child ought to have been. The sheer effort it took to just hold her the first day left him exhausted beyond anything he’d ever felt.
It should also have occurred to him sooner that perhaps a child from North Nova needed to move quickly to survive. That crossing more milestones in their first month than a Squishy did in their first year was actually quite normal. Somehow, it hadn’t.
It also should have occurred to him that, as a hybrid child of the Winged Egger and the Zoos, a North Novan baby would be...very. Very. Strong.
Tali broke everything. That wasn’t an exaggeration. Her crib was a goner in the first week, a perfectly good wooden little bed reduced to splinters the day Dragato had bought it, and Dragato had spent so much time picking it out too. Her high chair had suffered a similar gruesome fate with a particularly fierce kick aimed at the seat, and the replacement hadn’t lasted long either. Dragato had to hold her in his arms to feed her after that and he had the battle scars to prove it. Spoons, bowls, all bent or smashed with one eager swipe of baby paws. Not even the front door was spared her energetic wrath the moment she’d started running on all four of her little limbs – how did a four month old baby manage to smash clean through?
Tali was unlike any child Dragato had ever heard of. Father Gravel had said it was in her species – that the Winged Egger in her blood made her fierce, wild. Those dragons were known for strength and violence above all else within North Nova. Tali was hardly aggressive, but she was certainly fierce and definitely strong.
It wasn’t her fault. Babies were babies and it was Dragato’s fault for not preparing like he should have. Tali was energetic and playful like a young Scarfy and she needed enrichment that he hadn’t been ready to give her. Dragato just hadn’t been ready at all to be a father, much less a father to an overly strong baby.
He loved her to death, though. She was a sweet little thing when she wasn’t causing mischief and he had every confidence she’d grow out of it over time. He just wished he didn’t need to keep replacing things.
It might not have been so bad if Tali had actually had toys to play with. He’d certainly bought more than his fair share for her. But then what was one to do if a child with the ability to break wood got her hands on fleece and stuffing? Nothing, except pick up the eviscerated pieces and keep the child from choking on it all.
The only thing that had ever survived her onslaught had been a flat, leather cushion of a thing that her grandfather Gravel had given him just a few weeks ago, not long after hearing tell of a very unfortunate pediatric dentist appointment. “You’ll need it,” Gravel had told him dryly.
It was a toy, Dragato had been told, but honestly it hadn’t looked like much of one. Toys were colorful, soft, made noises, usually. This one was none of these things. It had the distinct shape of a North Novan animal, and a little bit of stuffing, but that was about it. Otherwise, it was mostly just...brown leather.
But when Tali tore through every toy she was given, it was the only thing that ever remained in one piece. Had Dragato not watched her try to tear the thing to pieces more times than he could count, he might’ve thought she’d never even touched it at all for how unscathed it was.
It let him get things done when nothing else could. And what was better was that it was Tali’s absolute favorite, meaning Dragato could, if needed, set her in a cloth playpen and let her at it while he worked.
So father Gravel had a point. He did need it. And whatever it was that kept Tali’s little claws to herself, Dragato needed more of it. His wallet couldn’t take much more after seven months of baby rearing.
But – what exactly was it? Dragato asks about it the next time he visits his father in the canyon. Gravel looks not at all surprised.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask me sooner,” Gravel snorts. “I made it. After that dentist incident of yours, as I’m sure you recall.”
“Made it…?” He trails off.
Gravel’s gaze skims down to look pointedly at the bandages on Dragato’s arms. How long had they been there now? Dragato couldn’t recall. “A baby Zoos with Winged Egger blood does not make for dull teeth. You needed a teether, and a reprieve.”
Dragato silently watches as Tali curls up in her grandfather’s lap, turning the words in his head. The crude leather toy that Gravel had made and that Dragato had brought with him hangs in her mouth, and she chews peaceably without a care in the world, causing no harm to anything or anyone. Dragato still has a hard time believing the toy is still whole.
“...How?” He asks, finally.
“How what?”
“How is it so…?” Dragato gestures at nothing.
“North Novan leather. Incredibly tough, suited for the harsh weather. Quite a commodity for many types of species where the young are more prone to kill than play.” Gravel reaches to wiggle the toy gently in Tali’s mouth, watching how she snorts and clamps down with her teeth. Dragato knows that would have snapped a chair leg clean in two, but the toy looks no worse for wear.
It made sense, he supposed. North Novan toys for a North Novan child.
“I see…” He murmurs, mystified and feeling...maybe a bit silly for not having realized sooner. “Certainly would have saved me some heartache had I known seven months ago…!”
“I can’t imagine the state of your home right now if it took you this long to come see me, my son.”
Dragato can’t imagine it either.
Gravel hums. “I’m certainly happy to make more for you – stars above knows you need as many as you can get and I do so enjoy spoiling my grandbaby!”
Oh, thank NOVA above. Dragato can already feel himself sagging in relief. “Stars, that means a lot, father, thank you so mu--”
“But I think you might do with learning to make a few yourself, now that you’ve brought up the topic.”
Wait what.
“I’d teach you, of course! But it would be useful when I’m not about during the winter, and it’s always been a custom for toys to be handcrafted for family on North Nova.” He pauses. “The majority of the time. The practice might be falling out of favor these days...”
Dragato has never made a toy in his life. He looks at the little leather toy in Tali’s contented mouth and, though it’s a simple thing, he frankly has no idea how his father had made it. Cite might’ve known, perhaps. He enjoyed the occasional craft project when he wasn’t painting. But Dragato…
He watches as his father scratches his chin in thought, letting the idea turn in his head.
Tali deserved the world, and Dragato had never given her something made with his own two hands.
“I can’t say I’d make anything pretty,” He says, finally, “but I definitely wouldn’t be opposed! Though, you said it uses North Novan leather?”
“The North Novan Mountain Deer, specifically,” Gravel tugs gently on the toy again and lets go with a snort when Tali swipes a lazy paw in his direction. “Rare, difficult to obtain, but incredibly hardy and versatile. I used the last of it making this little thing, so we’ll need to go shopping before we can do anything else.”
Dragato thinks of North Nova. Hot, arid, covered in sand and rock, and though West Nova’s neighbor still quite a distance away as a whole other planet in the star system. Lead rolls down into his stomach at the thought of returning there. Not that he would have refused, but. Well. Traveling as a new father to an overly strong baby was...an ordeal.
Gravel must see the look on his face because he’s quick to wave his hand with a shake his head. “Not to North Nova, of course! Too far. The next town over has a district dealing in imported goods, rather. There’s a North Novan shopkeeper there that I get all of my supplies from.”
Dragato’s wings sag visibly. “Lucky us,” He murmurs, and Gravel doesn’t stop the snort that leaves him.
It’ll take a little bit to get there, they both agree, longer to shop and pack everything and head home before dinner. A trip was still a trip even if lasted only a day. Finding Tali a babysitter would be difficult for that long a period of time, but--
“Oh, nonsense,” Gravel waves him off, “We can make a family outing of it.”
… “Faaaamily outing?”
“You, me, Ramset, little Tali. We haven’t gotten to do one of those yet and I would dearly enjoy spending some time with my family. I’m quite sure Ramset would agree with the sentiment.”
Oh, stars.
Dragato clears his throat. “That would be a pleasant idea, father, but Tali is…”
He gestures wordlessly. Tali snaps at something her sleep, her jaws popping loud enough to make Dragato’s skin crawl. She was overstimulated enough at home as it was. If the dentist appointment were anything to go by, he couldn’t imagine what she’d do in an unfamiliar town full of unfamiliar people, being carted around doing who knows what.
But Gravel is her favorite for a reason, and certainly he knows it. Of all of them, he was the most qualified to handle her. “Have some faith in me. You’d not underestimate the ability of a grandfather that knows what he’s doing, I hope.”
“Father, please.”
He trusts him, though. Gravel wouldn’t do anything he thought would be detrimental to his grandchild.
A family outing did sound nice. If it went as well as they hoped.
---------------------
Dragato and Cite have both traveled plenty before. They’d been all over, both apart and together, and they’d been quite a few places across space by now! But, and this was embarrassing, Dragato couldn’t say he’d ever been to the neighboring town before. As close as he was to it, he’d never thought to visit. There hadn’t been reason to!
It’s definitely busier than Kalmari.
The town bustles with activity. People, far more than Dragato has ever seen in Kalmari, mingle and talk, manning stalls and managing restaurants, bartering and living their lives. Buildings sit packed together in clusters of all shapes and sizes, forming a tight intricate network of thin, winding roads and alleyways that they have to fight to fit through. All three of them have to squish together to avoid bumping into anyone, although it ends up happening anyway. Dragato isn’t sure how to feel about it – Gravel is in front of him with Tali in his hold and the worry crawls down his spine at the thought of Tali stuck in such claustrophobic conditions where Dragato can’t see her. Had his parents not been so calm about this and had he not heard Tali’s excited squealing, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to keep a level head.
Gravel walks through the streets with a purpose that speaks of the familiarity of countless trips. Through the throng, down the main pathways, around people and stalls, Gravel weaves through it all with a hand on the sling wrapped around him. It’s a fight for Dragato to keep up and he might not have had his father Ramset not been keeping up the rear and pointing him in the right direction.
Eventually, the scenery shifts as they make their way out of the town center and further towards the port. The streets widen, the shops spreading further out while stone buildings shift into wood structures. The scent of spice and food is displaced in favor of seafoam and salt, and in front of him Dragato hears Tali gives a loud little yowl.
There were a lot more variety of species here, Dragato found. Those coming, those going, yelling out directions and supply lists while others advertised their wares alongside stalls tucked against the walkways. His father hadn’t lied about the prominence of import trade here – it seemed like there were wares here from each cardinal planet around Central Crux, and that wasn’t even a fourth of it.
“Nearly there now,” Gravel says from in front of him, “The shop isn’t much further. If you need something for your hatchling, you’ll find it here.”
“I hope so. I don’t know how much more Tali is going to take before she decides it would be a good idea to tear through the sling…”
“Nonsense,” Gravel snorts amiably, patting the bundle against his chest. “We brought her toy with us and she is having quite a grand time. Ah, here--”
Gravel is turn a corner before Dragato has time to respond, so quickly that Dragato very nearly slams into him. He has to stumble a little to keep his bearings, and when he turns to follow, the alley in which he enters is cramped to the point where he needs to tuck his wings in tightly for room.
The place they stop at isn’t much different from the rest of the buildings that surround it. The door is small, a little rickety on its wooden frame. It blends in a little too well with the windows on either side of it such that it looks more like a hole in the wall with nothing but a sign nailed above to signal its presence. Had Dragato not seen his father slide it open and duck in, he might’ve missed it all together.
Dragato tucks his wings, ducks his head and squeezes in as best the entrance will allow, wings tight to his back so as not to catch the frame. As he turns to duck out of the way for Ramset, his father Gravel’s voice floats through on the heels of another, unfamiliar tone.
“Gravel! Back already, friend?”
“I can’t imagine you would complain about one of your favorite customers, hm?”
The smell is the first thing Dragato registers of the place.
He’s been to a North Novan market before. He remembers it distinctly, the day he’d purchased Tali’s egg. The smells, the sights, the sun beating on his back. Spices that burnt the nose and meat that cooked in the sun with no need for fire, giving off a smell that made his stomach clench with hunger. Standing there in this little shop, for a split second he finds himself transported right back there.
Wall to wall sits food and produce of all sorts. Vegetables and fruits native only to the harsh North Novan deserts hang in rough woven baskets or tucked into boxes, there for anyone to pick from. Jars and preserves line the shelves of the walls alongside bags of snack foods and jerky. Meat – a lot of meat – hangs from the wooden ceiling on rough leather rope, dried and cured and sectioned out according to type and weight. There simply wasn’t enough room to have it all lower, because where the shop wasn’t filled with produce and food, there were household goods that Dragato hadn’t a name for. Bottles of oil and rolls of parchment, weapons and tools hanging from armor racks, many other little vials and objects of interest meant for the home or some other purpose.
Dragato has to tiptoe very, very carefully around the wooden pallets and shelves just to avoid bumping into it all. He can’t stop himself from hitting his head against a hanging flank, though. His father Ramset gives a soft chuckle behind him, to his flustered consternation.
Gravel has already made his way toward the back by the time Dragato manages to find him. He’s there, Dragato sees, in front of a long wooden counter that’s just as cluttered as the rest of the store. The Elieel on the other side, colored a mottled orange and rust, hovers at attention with a smirk on their face.
“We’re going to need all of the leather you have, old friend,” Gravel says wryly. “North Novan Mountain Deer, if you have it.”
Tali, where Dragato can’t see, shrieks in Gravel’s hold.
“Oh ho! A hatchling, is it! Well, no wonder you’re here. And where did this one come from?”
Gravel puffs up with pride as Dragato finally manages to make his way to stand beside him. “My granddaughter,” He announces. “My son decided to have a family while I slept through the winter! Of all times, can you believe it?” He gives Dragato a mock elbow to the side which he takes with an easy chuckle.
“It...was a bit of a surprise for me too.” Is the murmur he gives. Still, he can’t help beaming even as the Elieel eyes the bandages on Dragato’s arms with a too knowing look.
“Well, congratulations,” They chirp, “Children are no easy task – especially when they’re born of the deserts! West Nova – psh. Not near so hardy! Let’s see,” The shopkeeper jerks his thumb off to his right. “The leather will be in the usual spot, but there’s not much for now I’m afraid. Even out here it’s quite a catch to have. Should be able to find plenty of Nruff that works just as well, though.”
“I think we can make do with that.”
Gravel turns to make his way further back. Dragato would have followed, but a quick whistle from the shopkeeper gives him pause before he can do anything. “Actually, you stay here a moment. You’re a first time parent, aren’t you?” They ask. And, well. He supposed it would have been obvious.
“Yes, I am,” He says. The Elieel hums, already turning their back to him to reach for an absolutely massive chest of drawers that spans floor to ceiling behind the counter. “I won’t say it isn’t hard… But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I suppose the bandages gave it away…?”
“Very telling, yes,” The Elieel says, yanking open one of the lower drawers and reaching in with purpose. “But I don’t blame you! I think it’s a wonderful thing, really! Just-- need a bit of help is all--”
They yank hard, once, twice. Dragato sees the chest jerk ever so slightly as the shopkeeper pulls and yanks with a hiss, and Dragato worries that if they pull any harder the entire thing is going to topple over.
He’s just about to open his mouth and offer to help when the Elieel gives one final jerk of the arm – and with the sound of scraping wood, dislodges a very sizeable bone from the bottom of the drawer.
“A-ha!”
“Erh.”
The shopkeeper sets it on the counter without looking and reaches back into the drawer. Dragato watches, mystified, as they start to pull out several more bones one after the other, all far smaller than the first, dumping each on the counter until a rather impressive pile has accumulated. They’re polished to a shine, smooth to the touch, clacking against each other faintly as they’re set down against each other. No wonder the counter is a mess.
Dragato does not know what’s going on.
Eventually, the drawer closes with a clunk, and the Elieel grins a sharp toothed expression as they take a cloth satchel and start to bag everything up. “For when the hatchling teethes,” They mention, as if it were obvious. “Good for their health, too.”
Dragato thinks back to all of the splintered furniture and broken toys and torn skin. Toys and leather had been what Dragato and the family had come for, but, that didn’t mean Tali didn’t need something else too, did it? It would be helpful, he thought... And it was certainly kind enough for them to offer! But.
“Well, thank you!” He says, mildly taken aback and rather a bit touched, “But, that is a lot of them. I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay for each one--”
“Oh, nonsense!”
Dragato yelps at the hand that comes down on his back. He knew who it was immediately, but his head whirled to look anyway.
“Don’t scare me like that, stars…!”
His father Ramset winks at him with a chuckle, unbothered and certainly not guilty in the slightest. “You didn’t think we were going to let you spend your own money, did you? We’ll take the lot!”
“I—That’s really not-- I mean I really couldn’t--!”
“Are you going to argue that when all your parents want to do is spoil their new grandbaby?” Ramset pinches Dragato’s cheek gently between two fingers. “This is a treat for us too, you know! Grav’s been looking forward to this!”
His parents certainly have a way of making him feel like a child again. Dragato can feel his cheeks burning with the embarrassment, and hastily a hand raises up to wave his laughing father off.
He doesn’t like just accepting money. It isn’t proper when people could put it towards something else and just-- generally isn’t polite! But Dragato knows his parents and Dragato knows grandparents. Neither of his fathers would be taking no for an answer.
So he sighs, long and drawn out. Ramset has already gone to take the satchel by the time Dragato voices his agreement in a bedraggled, “Fiiine, fine!” and Dragato takes the bag offered to him without a fight.
Still, he can’t help the little smile that spreads across his face.
Dragato hadn’t thought they would stay as long as they did, but the shop turned out to have such an incredible selection of almost everything and anything that all three of them had ended up losing track of time. It was an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted.
It was Gravel who took care of the crafting materials, mainly. True to the shopkeeper’s word, there hadn’t been much deer hide in stock, and Gravel took all of the leather they had available. To make up for it he’d taken quite a selection of Desert Nruff hide, which was plentiful by contrast and while not as durable, would still get the job done just fine. He’d topped off with a few spools of heavy leather thread to complete the ensemble because anything thinner would be toast in little Tali’s impressive teeth.
Ramset, who hadn’t been to a North Novan shop in stars knew when, hadn’t wanted to waste the opportunity for a good meal. With Gravel preoccupied, it left him free to splurge on no small amount of spices, some to try out, others for a bit of nostalgia. It was an entertaining sight to see him combing through each basket of fruit, plucking up whatever he felt suited his fancy before going for the dried meats – and asking for one impressive flank hanging from the ceiling.
“Do we need all of that, father Ramset?” Dragato had asked.
“If we’re going to be eating traditional North Novan tonight, it’s gotta be accurate!”
“But all of that?”
“Leftovers!”
Well, there was no arguing with him.
Dragato hadn’t initially meant to buy anything more than the leather for Tali’s toys. But with his parents shopping, it left him the time to take in everything the store had to offer, and the more he saw, the more he realized that what was here would actually have been useful. There were a few leather toys already made that were for sale, and since he’d never made a toy himself before and couldn’t be sure of his skill, he’d figured grabbing a few wouldn’t hurt. Then there was powdered formula meant for North Novan young of reptilian descent, kindly pointed out by the shopkeeper where Dragato otherwise wouldn’t have known to look.
And then he’d bought a lot of bowls and a lot of plates and a whole whole lot of North Novan forks and spoons. Less decorative overall than fancy West Novan silverware, but they were more sturdy than anything Dragato had ever felt and he could have cried in relief at the discovery. This is his new favorite shop, he decides, and the shopkeeper is going to be seeing him a lot in the future.
His fathers pay the tab for everything, as Ramset had insisted they do. Dragato makes up for it by carrying everything, even if it ends up being a lot. He’s got the muscle for it, and he’d much rather handle the haul while his fathers trade Tali around and make sure she’s cared for. Gravel keeps her calm more than Dragato himself does.
Overall, between traveling to the next town over, shopping a good portion of the day, and then eventually making their way back home to Ramset’s for dinner, it’s a busy day. Dragato would have been fine calling it there – he was tired, Tali was tired, there was no rush. But they had gone shopping for a reason and Gravel wasn’t one to leave work unfinished.
“Out to the shed,” Gravel says, “We have some toys to make.”
Dragato had never made a toy by hand before.
As it turned out, making one was...difficult.
Gravel had walked him through the initial steps. A pattern, several of them, had been sketched messily on a stray leaf of paper. From there, the shape of the toy had to be cut from the leather following the pattern’s guidelines. Then, it would need to be stitched together, stuffed, and then closed completely.
Easy enough if it were some softer West Novan fabric, maybe, but they were working with North Novan leather and leather was far less willing to cooperate than fleece was.
Gravel, with the ease of a pro, hands his son a blade, forged on a bone hilt and shaped from the ruby that he had always used for such things. “It cuts better than any metal could,” is the firm remark. Dragato, marveling at his gift, finds that he’s right. It cuts through the leather like butter.
Still, quality tools don’t make up for inexperience. As slow and careful as he tries to go, the shapes he makes are...crude, to say the least. His fish looks less like a fish and more like an oval with a tail, and the sad little bird he had attempted to cut is more of a conglomeration of triangles and indignity.
“The toys are small and Tali is young,” Gravel tells him. “I doubt she would care for their looks. You shouldn’t either.”
Dragato grumbles a bit as he pokes the thin leather thread through two slowly interconnecting pieces. He’d needed the knife to make holes suitable enough for something to slide through, because if sharp Winged Egger baby teeth couldn’t puncture this, then definitely nothing metal could hope to try.
“You make it look easy…” He mutters to himself.
“Years of practice sewing and cutting leather affords one some skill. You’ll get there eventually.”
It was easy for his father to say, Dragato thought wryly. Where Dragato’s creations were coming out with less finesse than he would prefer, Gravel had taken to cutting his own into three dimensional patterns and was stitching each one together faster than Dragato could hope to keep up with. His father’s fingers moved with practiced precision, cutting tiny divots at even, quick intervals at the edge of smoothly cut leather and lacing the thread through each hole in short order.
It’s such that by the time Dragato has finished making two relatively flat toys of questionable shape, Gravel has already started on his third, a little Nruff soon capable of standing on all four hooves. Maybe it would have taken him longer had the toys been larger than the palm of his hand, but still, it was impressive to see.
It’s easy to get lost in the process when one is drawn into concentration. Dragato spares no effort, even if Tali won’t recognize it. He wanted her to actually have things to play with, things that were good and wouldn’t break under her teeth. She deserved quality and to have something meant for her when the world kept breaking under her teeth.
But eventually, there came a point where they simply had to stop. For Dragato, it came with a gentle clearing of the throat and a gesture at the ruby knife in his hand, busy cutting through his next pattern. “I think that that’s enough for now. You’ve made quite a little pile already, my son.”
Dragato looks over at the finished toys at his side. His father isn’t wrong; there’s quite a little assortment of shapes for Tali to choose from. A bird of sorts, a fish, a little worm...and a star sitting neatly at the top of it all. It was the best one he’d made thus far.
It’s tempting to keep going. He still has plenty of leather and this one has only just been started. He wanted Tali to have everything he could give her. But Gravel looks at him evenly, calm and expectant. Beside him a neat pile of his own toys sits gathered in a box. His supplies have already been put away.
“I suppose you’re right,” He murmurs, understanding though hesitant to put everything down. He isn’t ungrateful for the intervention, anyhow. Now that he’s paused long enough to focus, the hunger gnaws at his stomach with insistence. How long had they been working? “Tali’s probably up from her nap by now…”
“And praise the stars if she hasn’t bitten through Ramset’s furniture by now,” Gravel snorts as they start to pack everything up.
Tali had not, in fact, torn through Ramset’s furniture upon investigation when they returned to his home. Tali was, in fact, chewing on the rather sizable bone that Dragato had gotten from the shop earlier that day – which was a comical sight given the bone was at least three times her size.
The smell of spices fills the air in a heavy curtain, the temperature warm with the fires going in the kitchen. “Hey! Everything go good?” Ramset calls as he turns to look at them from his place in the kitchen. “I was wondering how long it might be.”
“Everything went excellent,” Gravel says as he sets the toys aside, well away from Tali’s grasp for the moment. “Dragato is a natural.”
“Our boy can do anything he sets his mind to. He’s proven that plenty already, hasn’t he?” Ramset snorts. “You’ll have to show me what you’ve both made when we’re done. In the meantime--”
He gestures to the table with a grin.
“Why don’t we all get situated and dig in, huh?!”
...
Dragato – and Gravel – stare.
“...Ramset.”
“What? We don’t get to shop North Novan often. I wanted to try something new!”
“Ramset.”
Dragato doesn’t blame his father Gravel at all.
A veritable buffet of meat, fruit, bread and sauces, most of which Dragato can’t recognize sits on a collection of platters seated all over the table. Bowls of Hornats pepper whatever space is available alongside plates of cut Tamas paired with skewers of what is likely Nruff meat. Dragato, unfortunately, also recognizes the many Cobal berries scattered over the ensemble, much to his dismay. His very unfortunate snacking incident back on North Nova isn’t something he’s going to be forgetting anytime soon.
In short – it’s a feast. Ramset had gone all out and now there was too much fruit and meat for them to know what to do with. No wonder father Gravel seemed so put upon.
“Well, you don’t need to praise me that much,” Ramset snickers when Dragato’s silence stretches on just a little too long. “Come on, we’re all hungry here! Let’s get Tali situated and eat.”
So they eat.
It’s not something Dragato has tasted before. He doesn’t know it, but it’s not something any of them have really tasted before, not by much. He takes a nibble of a Tama and has to wash it down when the spice hits him, and he’ll find it true for most of the food that he eats. It’s warm. Hearty. It fills him up in a way West Novan cuisine couldn’t quite manage.
Tali gets her own treat when someone passes her a bowl of salsa and some meat chops, whittled down and minimally seasoned for her to try. Lucky that she seemed so enthused to try it – she’d taken one measly lick and then it was a fight to keep her from breaking the high chair in her excitement to devour the rest. She ate her meal as if it were the last thing she’d ever eat, which was how she ate most of her food.
Dragato surveys his family quietly in the moment he has to his own thoughts. His fathers, chatting and bantering to each other, and tiny Tali, so young but so fierce, eating every bit of food she’s given. All of them of North Novan breed even if none of them associated with their ancestral home. Eating North Novan food, making North Novan toys. He’d become so enmeshed in the culture that it was practically his now too and he hadn’t even noticed.
He had a lot to learn, if he wanted his daughter to know her heritage.
And, speaking of North Novan toys…
“How about we show Tali what we made her?”
Twenty minutes and some cleanup later, everyone is situated in the living room. Tali had been set on the floor with her bone to keep her distracted while Gravel had subtly brought in the box of toys and set it on the floor beside him. Ramset, who hadn’t seen them before then, marvels at the sight with a whistle of awe. Gravel hadn’t lied about Dragato’s skill.
And finally, there on the couch, the three of them together watching Tali contentedly chew at her bone, Gravel gives his son a pointed nudge with his elbow.
“You show her,” Gravel mutters plainly. “You’re her father.”
And, well, he wasn’t wrong on that.
Dragato looks at his daughter a long second. Such a tiny little thing, still only an infant. Yet she could do so much that children couldn’t even dream of at her age. Already romping around on all fours and getting into mischief when most babies were still learning to roll.
Dragato hadn’t been ready to be father, much less a father of a powerful little dragon Zoos. It wasn’t her fault. North Nova was tough and hardy, and West Nova was...soft. Too soft for a Winged Egger hybrid. If she ever destroyed anything, then it was because she didn’t have the right accommodations, and that was on them. Him, too, for not realizing sooner.
Luckily, he had time to fix it.
“Tali,” He coos, clicking his tongue. Her tiny head pops right up with such speed that it makes him want to laugh, but for that second he holds steady. “Look what your papa and grandpapas got you!”
He taps the box, and from within grabs the little star plush and raises it for her beady eyes to see. Dragato gives it a little shake.
She bolts for it, almost immediately. Dragato drops it back frantically back into the box before Tali can skewer his fingers.
It’s comical, watching her little four-legged gallop as she beelines for the box of toys. He does wonder what she’s going to do when she reaches it – and then stops wondering when he sees his little seven month old baby clear climb the thing, up to the edge and then over into the little toy hoard. Never mind that the box wasn’t that big – it was still impressive!
All three of them watch as Tali, with her sharp teeth and sharp claws and immense strength, takes one mighty chomp of the little leather star plush and proceeds to grab for every other plush she can get her hands on. It’s fascinating to watch; Dragato has seen her do this before, and no toy had ever survived her energy bursts. He half expects the same with these.
But nothing happens. There’s no sound of tearing, no shredding, no signs of loose, stray leather. Tali rolls around her toys like a writhing snake and gives several of them a few hearty bites, pulls them under her claws and kicks with her feet. But nothing comes loose.
Despite her chaotic play, each little plush remains exactly as it is. Barring a few little tooth marks.
Dragato feels like he’s going to cry.
“She’s lucky to have you,” Gravel murmurs at his side. Dragato can feel his fathers watching him, warmth in their eyes, and he couldn’t ever feel more grateful for what they’ve done for him today.
“Yeah,” He whispers. “I think I’m lucky to have her too.”
So, so lucky.
Dragato exemplified that than he would have preferred to.
He’d known he was going to be in over his head when he’d chosen to be Tali’s father. He hadn’t had anything; no baby furniture or toys or any other necessities like formula and toiletries or whatever else. He hadn’t even known he was going to have a baby up until the egg in his care hatched into one. Not being ready was an understatement, honestly.
But by NOVA he had not expected to be this unprepared.
It should have occurred to him sooner that perhaps a child hatched from a North Novan egg was meant for a North Novan way of life. That a child of North Nova had to fight to survive, and so necessitated coming into the world thrashing like a demon beast and far stronger any child ought to have been. The sheer effort it took to just hold her the first day left him exhausted beyond anything he’d ever felt.
It should also have occurred to him sooner that perhaps a child from North Nova needed to move quickly to survive. That crossing more milestones in their first month than a Squishy did in their first year was actually quite normal. Somehow, it hadn’t.
It also should have occurred to him that, as a hybrid child of the Winged Egger and the Zoos, a North Novan baby would be...very. Very. Strong.
Tali broke everything. That wasn’t an exaggeration. Her crib was a goner in the first week, a perfectly good wooden little bed reduced to splinters the day Dragato had bought it, and Dragato had spent so much time picking it out too. Her high chair had suffered a similar gruesome fate with a particularly fierce kick aimed at the seat, and the replacement hadn’t lasted long either. Dragato had to hold her in his arms to feed her after that and he had the battle scars to prove it. Spoons, bowls, all bent or smashed with one eager swipe of baby paws. Not even the front door was spared her energetic wrath the moment she’d started running on all four of her little limbs – how did a four month old baby manage to smash clean through?
Tali was unlike any child Dragato had ever heard of. Father Gravel had said it was in her species – that the Winged Egger in her blood made her fierce, wild. Those dragons were known for strength and violence above all else within North Nova. Tali was hardly aggressive, but she was certainly fierce and definitely strong.
It wasn’t her fault. Babies were babies and it was Dragato’s fault for not preparing like he should have. Tali was energetic and playful like a young Scarfy and she needed enrichment that he hadn’t been ready to give her. Dragato just hadn’t been ready at all to be a father, much less a father to an overly strong baby.
He loved her to death, though. She was a sweet little thing when she wasn’t causing mischief and he had every confidence she’d grow out of it over time. He just wished he didn’t need to keep replacing things.
It might not have been so bad if Tali had actually had toys to play with. He’d certainly bought more than his fair share for her. But then what was one to do if a child with the ability to break wood got her hands on fleece and stuffing? Nothing, except pick up the eviscerated pieces and keep the child from choking on it all.
The only thing that had ever survived her onslaught had been a flat, leather cushion of a thing that her grandfather Gravel had given him just a few weeks ago, not long after hearing tell of a very unfortunate pediatric dentist appointment. “You’ll need it,” Gravel had told him dryly.
It was a toy, Dragato had been told, but honestly it hadn’t looked like much of one. Toys were colorful, soft, made noises, usually. This one was none of these things. It had the distinct shape of a North Novan animal, and a little bit of stuffing, but that was about it. Otherwise, it was mostly just...brown leather.
But when Tali tore through every toy she was given, it was the only thing that ever remained in one piece. Had Dragato not watched her try to tear the thing to pieces more times than he could count, he might’ve thought she’d never even touched it at all for how unscathed it was.
It let him get things done when nothing else could. And what was better was that it was Tali’s absolute favorite, meaning Dragato could, if needed, set her in a cloth playpen and let her at it while he worked.
So father Gravel had a point. He did need it. And whatever it was that kept Tali’s little claws to herself, Dragato needed more of it. His wallet couldn’t take much more after seven months of baby rearing.
But – what exactly was it? Dragato asks about it the next time he visits his father in the canyon. Gravel looks not at all surprised.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask me sooner,” Gravel snorts. “I made it. After that dentist incident of yours, as I’m sure you recall.”
“Made it…?” He trails off.
Gravel’s gaze skims down to look pointedly at the bandages on Dragato’s arms. How long had they been there now? Dragato couldn’t recall. “A baby Zoos with Winged Egger blood does not make for dull teeth. You needed a teether, and a reprieve.”
Dragato silently watches as Tali curls up in her grandfather’s lap, turning the words in his head. The crude leather toy that Gravel had made and that Dragato had brought with him hangs in her mouth, and she chews peaceably without a care in the world, causing no harm to anything or anyone. Dragato still has a hard time believing the toy is still whole.
“...How?” He asks, finally.
“How what?”
“How is it so…?” Dragato gestures at nothing.
“North Novan leather. Incredibly tough, suited for the harsh weather. Quite a commodity for many types of species where the young are more prone to kill than play.” Gravel reaches to wiggle the toy gently in Tali’s mouth, watching how she snorts and clamps down with her teeth. Dragato knows that would have snapped a chair leg clean in two, but the toy looks no worse for wear.
It made sense, he supposed. North Novan toys for a North Novan child.
“I see…” He murmurs, mystified and feeling...maybe a bit silly for not having realized sooner. “Certainly would have saved me some heartache had I known seven months ago…!”
“I can’t imagine the state of your home right now if it took you this long to come see me, my son.”
Dragato can’t imagine it either.
Gravel hums. “I’m certainly happy to make more for you – stars above knows you need as many as you can get and I do so enjoy spoiling my grandbaby!”
Oh, thank NOVA above. Dragato can already feel himself sagging in relief. “Stars, that means a lot, father, thank you so mu--”
“But I think you might do with learning to make a few yourself, now that you’ve brought up the topic.”
Wait what.
“I’d teach you, of course! But it would be useful when I’m not about during the winter, and it’s always been a custom for toys to be handcrafted for family on North Nova.” He pauses. “The majority of the time. The practice might be falling out of favor these days...”
Dragato has never made a toy in his life. He looks at the little leather toy in Tali’s contented mouth and, though it’s a simple thing, he frankly has no idea how his father had made it. Cite might’ve known, perhaps. He enjoyed the occasional craft project when he wasn’t painting. But Dragato…
He watches as his father scratches his chin in thought, letting the idea turn in his head.
Tali deserved the world, and Dragato had never given her something made with his own two hands.
“I can’t say I’d make anything pretty,” He says, finally, “but I definitely wouldn’t be opposed! Though, you said it uses North Novan leather?”
“The North Novan Mountain Deer, specifically,” Gravel tugs gently on the toy again and lets go with a snort when Tali swipes a lazy paw in his direction. “Rare, difficult to obtain, but incredibly hardy and versatile. I used the last of it making this little thing, so we’ll need to go shopping before we can do anything else.”
Dragato thinks of North Nova. Hot, arid, covered in sand and rock, and though West Nova’s neighbor still quite a distance away as a whole other planet in the star system. Lead rolls down into his stomach at the thought of returning there. Not that he would have refused, but. Well. Traveling as a new father to an overly strong baby was...an ordeal.
Gravel must see the look on his face because he’s quick to wave his hand with a shake his head. “Not to North Nova, of course! Too far. The next town over has a district dealing in imported goods, rather. There’s a North Novan shopkeeper there that I get all of my supplies from.”
Dragato’s wings sag visibly. “Lucky us,” He murmurs, and Gravel doesn’t stop the snort that leaves him.
It’ll take a little bit to get there, they both agree, longer to shop and pack everything and head home before dinner. A trip was still a trip even if lasted only a day. Finding Tali a babysitter would be difficult for that long a period of time, but--
“Oh, nonsense,” Gravel waves him off, “We can make a family outing of it.”
… “Faaaamily outing?”
“You, me, Ramset, little Tali. We haven’t gotten to do one of those yet and I would dearly enjoy spending some time with my family. I’m quite sure Ramset would agree with the sentiment.”
Oh, stars.
Dragato clears his throat. “That would be a pleasant idea, father, but Tali is…”
He gestures wordlessly. Tali snaps at something her sleep, her jaws popping loud enough to make Dragato’s skin crawl. She was overstimulated enough at home as it was. If the dentist appointment were anything to go by, he couldn’t imagine what she’d do in an unfamiliar town full of unfamiliar people, being carted around doing who knows what.
But Gravel is her favorite for a reason, and certainly he knows it. Of all of them, he was the most qualified to handle her. “Have some faith in me. You’d not underestimate the ability of a grandfather that knows what he’s doing, I hope.”
“Father, please.”
He trusts him, though. Gravel wouldn’t do anything he thought would be detrimental to his grandchild.
A family outing did sound nice. If it went as well as they hoped.
---------------------
Dragato and Cite have both traveled plenty before. They’d been all over, both apart and together, and they’d been quite a few places across space by now! But, and this was embarrassing, Dragato couldn’t say he’d ever been to the neighboring town before. As close as he was to it, he’d never thought to visit. There hadn’t been reason to!
It’s definitely busier than Kalmari.
The town bustles with activity. People, far more than Dragato has ever seen in Kalmari, mingle and talk, manning stalls and managing restaurants, bartering and living their lives. Buildings sit packed together in clusters of all shapes and sizes, forming a tight intricate network of thin, winding roads and alleyways that they have to fight to fit through. All three of them have to squish together to avoid bumping into anyone, although it ends up happening anyway. Dragato isn’t sure how to feel about it – Gravel is in front of him with Tali in his hold and the worry crawls down his spine at the thought of Tali stuck in such claustrophobic conditions where Dragato can’t see her. Had his parents not been so calm about this and had he not heard Tali’s excited squealing, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to keep a level head.
Gravel walks through the streets with a purpose that speaks of the familiarity of countless trips. Through the throng, down the main pathways, around people and stalls, Gravel weaves through it all with a hand on the sling wrapped around him. It’s a fight for Dragato to keep up and he might not have had his father Ramset not been keeping up the rear and pointing him in the right direction.
Eventually, the scenery shifts as they make their way out of the town center and further towards the port. The streets widen, the shops spreading further out while stone buildings shift into wood structures. The scent of spice and food is displaced in favor of seafoam and salt, and in front of him Dragato hears Tali gives a loud little yowl.
There were a lot more variety of species here, Dragato found. Those coming, those going, yelling out directions and supply lists while others advertised their wares alongside stalls tucked against the walkways. His father hadn’t lied about the prominence of import trade here – it seemed like there were wares here from each cardinal planet around Central Crux, and that wasn’t even a fourth of it.
“Nearly there now,” Gravel says from in front of him, “The shop isn’t much further. If you need something for your hatchling, you’ll find it here.”
“I hope so. I don’t know how much more Tali is going to take before she decides it would be a good idea to tear through the sling…”
“Nonsense,” Gravel snorts amiably, patting the bundle against his chest. “We brought her toy with us and she is having quite a grand time. Ah, here--”
Gravel is turn a corner before Dragato has time to respond, so quickly that Dragato very nearly slams into him. He has to stumble a little to keep his bearings, and when he turns to follow, the alley in which he enters is cramped to the point where he needs to tuck his wings in tightly for room.
The place they stop at isn’t much different from the rest of the buildings that surround it. The door is small, a little rickety on its wooden frame. It blends in a little too well with the windows on either side of it such that it looks more like a hole in the wall with nothing but a sign nailed above to signal its presence. Had Dragato not seen his father slide it open and duck in, he might’ve missed it all together.
Dragato tucks his wings, ducks his head and squeezes in as best the entrance will allow, wings tight to his back so as not to catch the frame. As he turns to duck out of the way for Ramset, his father Gravel’s voice floats through on the heels of another, unfamiliar tone.
“Gravel! Back already, friend?”
“I can’t imagine you would complain about one of your favorite customers, hm?”
The smell is the first thing Dragato registers of the place.
He’s been to a North Novan market before. He remembers it distinctly, the day he’d purchased Tali’s egg. The smells, the sights, the sun beating on his back. Spices that burnt the nose and meat that cooked in the sun with no need for fire, giving off a smell that made his stomach clench with hunger. Standing there in this little shop, for a split second he finds himself transported right back there.
Wall to wall sits food and produce of all sorts. Vegetables and fruits native only to the harsh North Novan deserts hang in rough woven baskets or tucked into boxes, there for anyone to pick from. Jars and preserves line the shelves of the walls alongside bags of snack foods and jerky. Meat – a lot of meat – hangs from the wooden ceiling on rough leather rope, dried and cured and sectioned out according to type and weight. There simply wasn’t enough room to have it all lower, because where the shop wasn’t filled with produce and food, there were household goods that Dragato hadn’t a name for. Bottles of oil and rolls of parchment, weapons and tools hanging from armor racks, many other little vials and objects of interest meant for the home or some other purpose.
Dragato has to tiptoe very, very carefully around the wooden pallets and shelves just to avoid bumping into it all. He can’t stop himself from hitting his head against a hanging flank, though. His father Ramset gives a soft chuckle behind him, to his flustered consternation.
Gravel has already made his way toward the back by the time Dragato manages to find him. He’s there, Dragato sees, in front of a long wooden counter that’s just as cluttered as the rest of the store. The Elieel on the other side, colored a mottled orange and rust, hovers at attention with a smirk on their face.
“We’re going to need all of the leather you have, old friend,” Gravel says wryly. “North Novan Mountain Deer, if you have it.”
Tali, where Dragato can’t see, shrieks in Gravel’s hold.
“Oh ho! A hatchling, is it! Well, no wonder you’re here. And where did this one come from?”
Gravel puffs up with pride as Dragato finally manages to make his way to stand beside him. “My granddaughter,” He announces. “My son decided to have a family while I slept through the winter! Of all times, can you believe it?” He gives Dragato a mock elbow to the side which he takes with an easy chuckle.
“It...was a bit of a surprise for me too.” Is the murmur he gives. Still, he can’t help beaming even as the Elieel eyes the bandages on Dragato’s arms with a too knowing look.
“Well, congratulations,” They chirp, “Children are no easy task – especially when they’re born of the deserts! West Nova – psh. Not near so hardy! Let’s see,” The shopkeeper jerks his thumb off to his right. “The leather will be in the usual spot, but there’s not much for now I’m afraid. Even out here it’s quite a catch to have. Should be able to find plenty of Nruff that works just as well, though.”
“I think we can make do with that.”
Gravel turns to make his way further back. Dragato would have followed, but a quick whistle from the shopkeeper gives him pause before he can do anything. “Actually, you stay here a moment. You’re a first time parent, aren’t you?” They ask. And, well. He supposed it would have been obvious.
“Yes, I am,” He says. The Elieel hums, already turning their back to him to reach for an absolutely massive chest of drawers that spans floor to ceiling behind the counter. “I won’t say it isn’t hard… But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I suppose the bandages gave it away…?”
“Very telling, yes,” The Elieel says, yanking open one of the lower drawers and reaching in with purpose. “But I don’t blame you! I think it’s a wonderful thing, really! Just-- need a bit of help is all--”
They yank hard, once, twice. Dragato sees the chest jerk ever so slightly as the shopkeeper pulls and yanks with a hiss, and Dragato worries that if they pull any harder the entire thing is going to topple over.
He’s just about to open his mouth and offer to help when the Elieel gives one final jerk of the arm – and with the sound of scraping wood, dislodges a very sizeable bone from the bottom of the drawer.
“A-ha!”
“Erh.”
The shopkeeper sets it on the counter without looking and reaches back into the drawer. Dragato watches, mystified, as they start to pull out several more bones one after the other, all far smaller than the first, dumping each on the counter until a rather impressive pile has accumulated. They’re polished to a shine, smooth to the touch, clacking against each other faintly as they’re set down against each other. No wonder the counter is a mess.
Dragato does not know what’s going on.
Eventually, the drawer closes with a clunk, and the Elieel grins a sharp toothed expression as they take a cloth satchel and start to bag everything up. “For when the hatchling teethes,” They mention, as if it were obvious. “Good for their health, too.”
Dragato thinks back to all of the splintered furniture and broken toys and torn skin. Toys and leather had been what Dragato and the family had come for, but, that didn’t mean Tali didn’t need something else too, did it? It would be helpful, he thought... And it was certainly kind enough for them to offer! But.
“Well, thank you!” He says, mildly taken aback and rather a bit touched, “But, that is a lot of them. I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay for each one--”
“Oh, nonsense!”
Dragato yelps at the hand that comes down on his back. He knew who it was immediately, but his head whirled to look anyway.
“Don’t scare me like that, stars…!”
His father Ramset winks at him with a chuckle, unbothered and certainly not guilty in the slightest. “You didn’t think we were going to let you spend your own money, did you? We’ll take the lot!”
“I—That’s really not-- I mean I really couldn’t--!”
“Are you going to argue that when all your parents want to do is spoil their new grandbaby?” Ramset pinches Dragato’s cheek gently between two fingers. “This is a treat for us too, you know! Grav’s been looking forward to this!”
His parents certainly have a way of making him feel like a child again. Dragato can feel his cheeks burning with the embarrassment, and hastily a hand raises up to wave his laughing father off.
He doesn’t like just accepting money. It isn’t proper when people could put it towards something else and just-- generally isn’t polite! But Dragato knows his parents and Dragato knows grandparents. Neither of his fathers would be taking no for an answer.
So he sighs, long and drawn out. Ramset has already gone to take the satchel by the time Dragato voices his agreement in a bedraggled, “Fiiine, fine!” and Dragato takes the bag offered to him without a fight.
Still, he can’t help the little smile that spreads across his face.
Dragato hadn’t thought they would stay as long as they did, but the shop turned out to have such an incredible selection of almost everything and anything that all three of them had ended up losing track of time. It was an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted.
It was Gravel who took care of the crafting materials, mainly. True to the shopkeeper’s word, there hadn’t been much deer hide in stock, and Gravel took all of the leather they had available. To make up for it he’d taken quite a selection of Desert Nruff hide, which was plentiful by contrast and while not as durable, would still get the job done just fine. He’d topped off with a few spools of heavy leather thread to complete the ensemble because anything thinner would be toast in little Tali’s impressive teeth.
Ramset, who hadn’t been to a North Novan shop in stars knew when, hadn’t wanted to waste the opportunity for a good meal. With Gravel preoccupied, it left him free to splurge on no small amount of spices, some to try out, others for a bit of nostalgia. It was an entertaining sight to see him combing through each basket of fruit, plucking up whatever he felt suited his fancy before going for the dried meats – and asking for one impressive flank hanging from the ceiling.
“Do we need all of that, father Ramset?” Dragato had asked.
“If we’re going to be eating traditional North Novan tonight, it’s gotta be accurate!”
“But all of that?”
“Leftovers!”
Well, there was no arguing with him.
Dragato hadn’t initially meant to buy anything more than the leather for Tali’s toys. But with his parents shopping, it left him the time to take in everything the store had to offer, and the more he saw, the more he realized that what was here would actually have been useful. There were a few leather toys already made that were for sale, and since he’d never made a toy himself before and couldn’t be sure of his skill, he’d figured grabbing a few wouldn’t hurt. Then there was powdered formula meant for North Novan young of reptilian descent, kindly pointed out by the shopkeeper where Dragato otherwise wouldn’t have known to look.
And then he’d bought a lot of bowls and a lot of plates and a whole whole lot of North Novan forks and spoons. Less decorative overall than fancy West Novan silverware, but they were more sturdy than anything Dragato had ever felt and he could have cried in relief at the discovery. This is his new favorite shop, he decides, and the shopkeeper is going to be seeing him a lot in the future.
His fathers pay the tab for everything, as Ramset had insisted they do. Dragato makes up for it by carrying everything, even if it ends up being a lot. He’s got the muscle for it, and he’d much rather handle the haul while his fathers trade Tali around and make sure she’s cared for. Gravel keeps her calm more than Dragato himself does.
Overall, between traveling to the next town over, shopping a good portion of the day, and then eventually making their way back home to Ramset’s for dinner, it’s a busy day. Dragato would have been fine calling it there – he was tired, Tali was tired, there was no rush. But they had gone shopping for a reason and Gravel wasn’t one to leave work unfinished.
“Out to the shed,” Gravel says, “We have some toys to make.”
Dragato had never made a toy by hand before.
As it turned out, making one was...difficult.
Gravel had walked him through the initial steps. A pattern, several of them, had been sketched messily on a stray leaf of paper. From there, the shape of the toy had to be cut from the leather following the pattern’s guidelines. Then, it would need to be stitched together, stuffed, and then closed completely.
Easy enough if it were some softer West Novan fabric, maybe, but they were working with North Novan leather and leather was far less willing to cooperate than fleece was.
Gravel, with the ease of a pro, hands his son a blade, forged on a bone hilt and shaped from the ruby that he had always used for such things. “It cuts better than any metal could,” is the firm remark. Dragato, marveling at his gift, finds that he’s right. It cuts through the leather like butter.
Still, quality tools don’t make up for inexperience. As slow and careful as he tries to go, the shapes he makes are...crude, to say the least. His fish looks less like a fish and more like an oval with a tail, and the sad little bird he had attempted to cut is more of a conglomeration of triangles and indignity.
“The toys are small and Tali is young,” Gravel tells him. “I doubt she would care for their looks. You shouldn’t either.”
Dragato grumbles a bit as he pokes the thin leather thread through two slowly interconnecting pieces. He’d needed the knife to make holes suitable enough for something to slide through, because if sharp Winged Egger baby teeth couldn’t puncture this, then definitely nothing metal could hope to try.
“You make it look easy…” He mutters to himself.
“Years of practice sewing and cutting leather affords one some skill. You’ll get there eventually.”
It was easy for his father to say, Dragato thought wryly. Where Dragato’s creations were coming out with less finesse than he would prefer, Gravel had taken to cutting his own into three dimensional patterns and was stitching each one together faster than Dragato could hope to keep up with. His father’s fingers moved with practiced precision, cutting tiny divots at even, quick intervals at the edge of smoothly cut leather and lacing the thread through each hole in short order.
It’s such that by the time Dragato has finished making two relatively flat toys of questionable shape, Gravel has already started on his third, a little Nruff soon capable of standing on all four hooves. Maybe it would have taken him longer had the toys been larger than the palm of his hand, but still, it was impressive to see.
It’s easy to get lost in the process when one is drawn into concentration. Dragato spares no effort, even if Tali won’t recognize it. He wanted her to actually have things to play with, things that were good and wouldn’t break under her teeth. She deserved quality and to have something meant for her when the world kept breaking under her teeth.
But eventually, there came a point where they simply had to stop. For Dragato, it came with a gentle clearing of the throat and a gesture at the ruby knife in his hand, busy cutting through his next pattern. “I think that that’s enough for now. You’ve made quite a little pile already, my son.”
Dragato looks over at the finished toys at his side. His father isn’t wrong; there’s quite a little assortment of shapes for Tali to choose from. A bird of sorts, a fish, a little worm...and a star sitting neatly at the top of it all. It was the best one he’d made thus far.
It’s tempting to keep going. He still has plenty of leather and this one has only just been started. He wanted Tali to have everything he could give her. But Gravel looks at him evenly, calm and expectant. Beside him a neat pile of his own toys sits gathered in a box. His supplies have already been put away.
“I suppose you’re right,” He murmurs, understanding though hesitant to put everything down. He isn’t ungrateful for the intervention, anyhow. Now that he’s paused long enough to focus, the hunger gnaws at his stomach with insistence. How long had they been working? “Tali’s probably up from her nap by now…”
“And praise the stars if she hasn’t bitten through Ramset’s furniture by now,” Gravel snorts as they start to pack everything up.
Tali had not, in fact, torn through Ramset’s furniture upon investigation when they returned to his home. Tali was, in fact, chewing on the rather sizable bone that Dragato had gotten from the shop earlier that day – which was a comical sight given the bone was at least three times her size.
The smell of spices fills the air in a heavy curtain, the temperature warm with the fires going in the kitchen. “Hey! Everything go good?” Ramset calls as he turns to look at them from his place in the kitchen. “I was wondering how long it might be.”
“Everything went excellent,” Gravel says as he sets the toys aside, well away from Tali’s grasp for the moment. “Dragato is a natural.”
“Our boy can do anything he sets his mind to. He’s proven that plenty already, hasn’t he?” Ramset snorts. “You’ll have to show me what you’ve both made when we’re done. In the meantime--”
He gestures to the table with a grin.
“Why don’t we all get situated and dig in, huh?!”
...
Dragato – and Gravel – stare.
“...Ramset.”
“What? We don’t get to shop North Novan often. I wanted to try something new!”
“Ramset.”
Dragato doesn’t blame his father Gravel at all.
A veritable buffet of meat, fruit, bread and sauces, most of which Dragato can’t recognize sits on a collection of platters seated all over the table. Bowls of Hornats pepper whatever space is available alongside plates of cut Tamas paired with skewers of what is likely Nruff meat. Dragato, unfortunately, also recognizes the many Cobal berries scattered over the ensemble, much to his dismay. His very unfortunate snacking incident back on North Nova isn’t something he’s going to be forgetting anytime soon.
In short – it’s a feast. Ramset had gone all out and now there was too much fruit and meat for them to know what to do with. No wonder father Gravel seemed so put upon.
“Well, you don’t need to praise me that much,” Ramset snickers when Dragato’s silence stretches on just a little too long. “Come on, we’re all hungry here! Let’s get Tali situated and eat.”
So they eat.
It’s not something Dragato has tasted before. He doesn’t know it, but it’s not something any of them have really tasted before, not by much. He takes a nibble of a Tama and has to wash it down when the spice hits him, and he’ll find it true for most of the food that he eats. It’s warm. Hearty. It fills him up in a way West Novan cuisine couldn’t quite manage.
Tali gets her own treat when someone passes her a bowl of salsa and some meat chops, whittled down and minimally seasoned for her to try. Lucky that she seemed so enthused to try it – she’d taken one measly lick and then it was a fight to keep her from breaking the high chair in her excitement to devour the rest. She ate her meal as if it were the last thing she’d ever eat, which was how she ate most of her food.
Dragato surveys his family quietly in the moment he has to his own thoughts. His fathers, chatting and bantering to each other, and tiny Tali, so young but so fierce, eating every bit of food she’s given. All of them of North Novan breed even if none of them associated with their ancestral home. Eating North Novan food, making North Novan toys. He’d become so enmeshed in the culture that it was practically his now too and he hadn’t even noticed.
He had a lot to learn, if he wanted his daughter to know her heritage.
And, speaking of North Novan toys…
“How about we show Tali what we made her?”
Twenty minutes and some cleanup later, everyone is situated in the living room. Tali had been set on the floor with her bone to keep her distracted while Gravel had subtly brought in the box of toys and set it on the floor beside him. Ramset, who hadn’t seen them before then, marvels at the sight with a whistle of awe. Gravel hadn’t lied about Dragato’s skill.
And finally, there on the couch, the three of them together watching Tali contentedly chew at her bone, Gravel gives his son a pointed nudge with his elbow.
“You show her,” Gravel mutters plainly. “You’re her father.”
And, well, he wasn’t wrong on that.
Dragato looks at his daughter a long second. Such a tiny little thing, still only an infant. Yet she could do so much that children couldn’t even dream of at her age. Already romping around on all fours and getting into mischief when most babies were still learning to roll.
Dragato hadn’t been ready to be father, much less a father of a powerful little dragon Zoos. It wasn’t her fault. North Nova was tough and hardy, and West Nova was...soft. Too soft for a Winged Egger hybrid. If she ever destroyed anything, then it was because she didn’t have the right accommodations, and that was on them. Him, too, for not realizing sooner.
Luckily, he had time to fix it.
“Tali,” He coos, clicking his tongue. Her tiny head pops right up with such speed that it makes him want to laugh, but for that second he holds steady. “Look what your papa and grandpapas got you!”
He taps the box, and from within grabs the little star plush and raises it for her beady eyes to see. Dragato gives it a little shake.
She bolts for it, almost immediately. Dragato drops it back frantically back into the box before Tali can skewer his fingers.
It’s comical, watching her little four-legged gallop as she beelines for the box of toys. He does wonder what she’s going to do when she reaches it – and then stops wondering when he sees his little seven month old baby clear climb the thing, up to the edge and then over into the little toy hoard. Never mind that the box wasn’t that big – it was still impressive!
All three of them watch as Tali, with her sharp teeth and sharp claws and immense strength, takes one mighty chomp of the little leather star plush and proceeds to grab for every other plush she can get her hands on. It’s fascinating to watch; Dragato has seen her do this before, and no toy had ever survived her energy bursts. He half expects the same with these.
But nothing happens. There’s no sound of tearing, no shredding, no signs of loose, stray leather. Tali rolls around her toys like a writhing snake and gives several of them a few hearty bites, pulls them under her claws and kicks with her feet. But nothing comes loose.
Despite her chaotic play, each little plush remains exactly as it is. Barring a few little tooth marks.
Dragato feels like he’s going to cry.
“She’s lucky to have you,” Gravel murmurs at his side. Dragato can feel his fathers watching him, warmth in their eyes, and he couldn’t ever feel more grateful for what they’ve done for him today.
“Yeah,” He whispers. “I think I’m lucky to have her too.”
So, so lucky.
-The End-
Artist Comment:
May 17, 2024
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Aaaah, I'm so glad this drawing is finished! 8D I love working on detailed pieces, it's always a fun project to work on. <333
Being a North Novan hatchling, Tali requires different needs to that of a West Novan child. While Dragato has done his best, he knows he was ill prepared for Tali. So, with the help of his parents, (And the new shop Dragato is introduced to) things will start to become a biiiit easier. Dragato's gonna do his best to be the BEST papa there is!!! 8D
I would love to delve more into Dragato's life while raising Tali as a hatchling. A lot happens during said time, and I really enjoy exploring his joys and hardships as a new parent. ;v;;; He struggles quite a bit, especially with money, and I'd like to touch upon that scenario eventually.
Side note: Dragato ends up with many scars on his hands due to Tali. Scratches, nips- it has caused Dragato's hands to become battered and scarred. Not as much as Pyrell, but they are quite noticeable. As Tali grew older, she always figured it was because her papa fought demon beasts. When she found out it was because of her, she was so sad and heartbroken. ;v; I'd love to drabble into that story one day. I have quite a lot of idea I want to talk about. >v<;;;
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The amazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^ It's always a huge honor to work with her~ She's able to capture SO much detail with the summaries I provide. I absolutely adore how this one turned out. >v< !!!
May 17, 2024
-----------------
Aaaah, I'm so glad this drawing is finished! 8D I love working on detailed pieces, it's always a fun project to work on. <333
Being a North Novan hatchling, Tali requires different needs to that of a West Novan child. While Dragato has done his best, he knows he was ill prepared for Tali. So, with the help of his parents, (And the new shop Dragato is introduced to) things will start to become a biiiit easier. Dragato's gonna do his best to be the BEST papa there is!!! 8D
I would love to delve more into Dragato's life while raising Tali as a hatchling. A lot happens during said time, and I really enjoy exploring his joys and hardships as a new parent. ;v;;; He struggles quite a bit, especially with money, and I'd like to touch upon that scenario eventually.
Side note: Dragato ends up with many scars on his hands due to Tali. Scratches, nips- it has caused Dragato's hands to become battered and scarred. Not as much as Pyrell, but they are quite noticeable. As Tali grew older, she always figured it was because her papa fought demon beasts. When she found out it was because of her, she was so sad and heartbroken. ;v; I'd love to drabble into that story one day. I have quite a lot of idea I want to talk about. >v<;;;
-
The amazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^ It's always a huge honor to work with her~ She's able to capture SO much detail with the summaries I provide. I absolutely adore how this one turned out. >v< !!!
Species © Nintendo/ HAL Laboratory
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
