It had been a rough couple of weeks. The trials aside, Taryn had been immersed in schoolwork and the constant care of a tiny whelp. The creature mostly slept and romped, which was definitely the fun part, but it also needed to be cleaned-up after (minipets were mercilessly hard to housetrain living in a dorm room) and fed every three hours.
The research had begun on the computer, as all good research did, with a newborn puppy napping in Taryn's lap. The ghoul had first looked up the varied information available (very little of it about cycorgis) and then to reference material to be found in the library. With the minipet nestled in her bra, the books had been retrieved, and then there had been only sitting. Sitting, that is, until the puppy started begging for food. A desperate run to the pet store had followed, and Taryn found that people who could speak from experience were twice as helpful as any cold, clinical research material.
Now, the chimera had been consistently excited about owning a minipet since the little things had tumbled out of the box. That had not changed, in itself, but something was about to alter.
Taryn sat on a curb in a calmer part of the city, the sun beaming down on herself and her new charge. She held a tiny bottle, too small for any scareling and simply poked with a pin to let the formula flow. It was powder, mixed with water, and the baby cycorgi refused to drink. For once, her worry was not losing the animal and failing the class, but just generally losing the animal. This was her new life companion. It had to survive.
"Please?" she begged, but the pup only looked up to her. Brows furrowed, Taryn squeezed a bit of formula out on her hand. She offered it to the beast, but only received the same blank stare. "You have to eat..." The ghoul dipped a red finger into the white puddle and rubbed it on the corgi's lips, whiskery and warm as they were. The whelp reflexively licked its lips and... was it pleased? Hoping, Taryn dipped the n****e of the bottle into the formula and pressed it to its lips one last time. Finally the cycorgi latched on, and Taryn sighed.
The tiny wriggling warmth and fuzz were lifted against the ghoul's chest and it rested there, kneading the air and occasionally her breast as it suckled. Keep the bottle vertical, don't want air to get in...
Soft murmurings and squeakings broke Taryn's heart, and she realized, in just that moment, that this was where she was mean to be.
In short time, formula was mixed with crunchies which were then mixed with wet food, and soon enough the canine was splayed in a fancy dish of kibble nightly. He was growing quickly, and soon he was given a name, and given a collar and a tag to let everyone know what it was. The room was filled with puppy accessories, toys and beds and blankets and balls. Everything seemed less lonely. Everything seemed right.
- - -
Taryn's face twisted as she slowly regained consciousness. Oh, god, she'd fallen face-first into a pool of slime, and it had begun moving. Who in the world dreamed about--
Windham happily lapped at his owner's face, tongue lolling, pounding her chest with tiny paws. He was excited! It was a day and days were exciting! He yipped as his master finally awoke, laughing and wrapping her arms around him. Life was good.
