The sudden treat caused most of Gran's ire to evaporate away like the morning dew on Thanalanian grasses. Being used to treats in the jerked meat variety, though, he was surprised to be presented with one that was so much more colorful. And smelled so much differently. He snuffled at the carrot piece proffered to him, trying to figure out what it was and - more importantly - if he could eat it.
Sight test and smell test both came back inconclusive, but he had seen the bipeds noshing on it so it couldn't be all that bad. A small rumbling in his belly further cemented his willingness to give it a try. One more tentative sniff and the baby behemoth daintily took the treat into his mouth.
And then Gran proceeded to eat it in the noisiest way possible. Unfamiliar with the more rigid and unyielding texture of the carrot, the little porker crunched and munched at it with deliberate opening and closings of his mouth to ensure proper mastication. His eyes were pointed downward at his own snout, as if trying to watch himself consume the strange treat. Only after doing this for what might seem as an excessively long time did Gran swallow it. And decide that he preferred the jerky treats Chachanji gave him as a snack more, while his tummy rumbled for something more filling.
As if to answer his porcine wish, the assortment of meats arrived. Their current waiter hung back as a heftier fellow presented a wide assortment of roasted and grilled delights. The smell immediately set Gran to drooling, and more than willing to try to escape Steel Wolf's grasp to partake like the little piggy he was. It was only after it was all tabled that their timid waiter approached again, holding a small bowl of what looked like pressed-together balls of meat scraps.
"And... ah... for your pet..." he intoned, placing the bowl gently in front of the Roegadyn and her purple bundle. A closer inspection would indeed show that they were little more than leftover bits of other meat dishes that had been churned up and shaped into little spheres, perfect for consumption by a growing baby behemoth. Being as savvy as she was, Momodi had sought to think of a catchy name for the things, should she find a market for them as treats for the various other pets adventurers seemed to be traveling around with these days. Ballhemoths, Behemeaties, Minyums, an entire list of rejected ideas was scribbled down on a scrap of parchment somewhere in the Lalafell's possession. It was only when she overheard Gran's owner talking about teaching the little porker to throw rocks like the bigguns that she was struck with horrible, horrible inspiration.
Meateors.
Sight test and smell test both came back inconclusive, but he had seen the bipeds noshing on it so it couldn't be all that bad. A small rumbling in his belly further cemented his willingness to give it a try. One more tentative sniff and the baby behemoth daintily took the treat into his mouth.
And then Gran proceeded to eat it in the noisiest way possible. Unfamiliar with the more rigid and unyielding texture of the carrot, the little porker crunched and munched at it with deliberate opening and closings of his mouth to ensure proper mastication. His eyes were pointed downward at his own snout, as if trying to watch himself consume the strange treat. Only after doing this for what might seem as an excessively long time did Gran swallow it. And decide that he preferred the jerky treats Chachanji gave him as a snack more, while his tummy rumbled for something more filling.
As if to answer his porcine wish, the assortment of meats arrived. Their current waiter hung back as a heftier fellow presented a wide assortment of roasted and grilled delights. The smell immediately set Gran to drooling, and more than willing to try to escape Steel Wolf's grasp to partake like the little piggy he was. It was only after it was all tabled that their timid waiter approached again, holding a small bowl of what looked like pressed-together balls of meat scraps.
"And... ah... for your pet..." he intoned, placing the bowl gently in front of the Roegadyn and her purple bundle. A closer inspection would indeed show that they were little more than leftover bits of other meat dishes that had been churned up and shaped into little spheres, perfect for consumption by a growing baby behemoth. Being as savvy as she was, Momodi had sought to think of a catchy name for the things, should she find a market for them as treats for the various other pets adventurers seemed to be traveling around with these days. Ballhemoths, Behemeaties, Minyums, an entire list of rejected ideas was scribbled down on a scrap of parchment somewhere in the Lalafell's possession. It was only when she overheard Gran's owner talking about teaching the little porker to throw rocks like the bigguns that she was struck with horrible, horrible inspiration.
Meateors.
