They waited for a good five minutes before the sound of deathclaws screeching in agony rolled across the quarry, accompanied by a very loud boom. When the smoke and smell of burnt scales had dissipated into the sky, Friday appeared, the hem of her dress covered in singe marks, her bonnet blown off, a deathclaw egg under her arm.
Her companions reluctantly left the sheltered area at the top of the conveyor and joined her below. She held the large egg out to Lily, who took it sheepishly, and then stuck a finger straight at all of them.
“See how easy that was? You’re all a bunch of pansies and I’m ashamed of you right now,” she turned her back and started down the quarry’s entrance draw. “See if I buy you guys dinner tonight.”
But a mere hundred yards from Sloan, the improbable happened, proving that they wouldn’t be having lunch either. Lily stopped suddenly and looked down at the egg, feeling something bump against her side from within its dark shell. She hesitated, and Arcade shot her a glance, the Courier continuing on in front, totally oblivious as always.
“Dearie,” she looked down at Rex, who was tilting his head at the egg, “there’s something wrong with this future omelet. Will you take a look?”
She set the egg down, and Rex licked it once, as if trying to give Lily some sort of assurance. A hole popped through the top of the leathery shell seconds later, the tiny tip of a horn bud poking its way to freedom. The cyberdog let out a yelp loud enough to cause the Courier to finally turn around, her eyes widening.
“What is going on? Ohmygosh!”
She dashed back toward them, just as the sides of the shell quivered and a perfect, blunted muzzle hesitantly sniffed at the wide world offered above. Then it pushed, mouth opening, and a small, wet bundle of soft, creamy scales and pinprick-sharp claws flopped out onto the sand, squalling as if the universe had just dealt it a markedly cruel blow. (Which it probably had, judging by the looks on the faces of those watching it.) It was about the size of a newborn bighorner or brahmin, the Courier thought, little more than thirty pounds though most of that was more ugly-cute than any cow’s calf.
“That is the most awf-,” Arcade started.
“Adorable,” Lily managed.
“Cute,” the Courier added.
Rex snuffled at the thing, his head sinking lower and then bobbing about as he tried to get a better view of it. The newborn deathclaw stopped crying and looked up at him, then made low, contented cheeping noises as Rex’s warm, wet nose started to sniff at its body, before his tongue began hesitantly licking at its shoulders. The deathclaw crawled shakily to its haunches, balancing there, glancing about with inquisitive, milky eyes and then started to rub his face against Rex’s cheek and sniffed back, clearly thinking this was exactly what he should do. Rex wagged his tail and looked up at the rest of the group.
“Well it’s not exactly a deathclaw anymore,” Friday laughed, “I’m pretty sure it thinks it’s a dog.”
“Great,” Arcade sighed, “just what we need, someone else who is confused about reality.”
“Isn’t that precious,” Lily balled her hands together by her face, if possible looking like the happiest nightkin in the universe, “even Leo thinks it’s cute. Reminds me of baby Becky, back at the Vault! Just like it was yesterday!”
ED-E zoomed closer and the baby snapped playfully at it, causing the eyebot to beep enthusiastically and bob around the infant’s open mouth. The Courier took a step forward, turning her head from side to side and then finally looked over at Arcade.
The Ballad of Fluffy the Deathclaw and his Reluctant Messiah of Doom (1b/?)
Her companions reluctantly left the sheltered area at the top of the conveyor and joined her below. She held the large egg out to Lily, who took it sheepishly, and then stuck a finger straight at all of them.
“See how easy that was? You’re all a bunch of pansies and I’m ashamed of you right now,” she turned her back and started down the quarry’s entrance draw. “See if I buy you guys dinner tonight.”
But a mere hundred yards from Sloan, the improbable happened, proving that they wouldn’t be having lunch either. Lily stopped suddenly and looked down at the egg, feeling something bump against her side from within its dark shell. She hesitated, and Arcade shot her a glance, the Courier continuing on in front, totally oblivious as always.
“Dearie,” she looked down at Rex, who was tilting his head at the egg, “there’s something wrong with this future omelet. Will you take a look?”
She set the egg down, and Rex licked it once, as if trying to give Lily some sort of assurance. A hole popped through the top of the leathery shell seconds later, the tiny tip of a horn bud poking its way to freedom. The cyberdog let out a yelp loud enough to cause the Courier to finally turn around, her eyes widening.
“What is going on? Ohmygosh!”
She dashed back toward them, just as the sides of the shell quivered and a perfect, blunted muzzle hesitantly sniffed at the wide world offered above. Then it pushed, mouth opening, and a small, wet bundle of soft, creamy scales and pinprick-sharp claws flopped out onto the sand, squalling as if the universe had just dealt it a markedly cruel blow. (Which it probably had, judging by the looks on the faces of those watching it.) It was about the size of a newborn bighorner or brahmin, the Courier thought, little more than thirty pounds though most of that was more ugly-cute than any cow’s calf.
“That is the most awf-,” Arcade started.
“Adorable,” Lily managed.
“Cute,” the Courier added.
Rex snuffled at the thing, his head sinking lower and then bobbing about as he tried to get a better view of it. The newborn deathclaw stopped crying and looked up at him, then made low, contented cheeping noises as Rex’s warm, wet nose started to sniff at its body, before his tongue began hesitantly licking at its shoulders. The deathclaw crawled shakily to its haunches, balancing there, glancing about with inquisitive, milky eyes and then started to rub his face against Rex’s cheek and sniffed back, clearly thinking this was exactly what he should do. Rex wagged his tail and looked up at the rest of the group.
“Well it’s not exactly a deathclaw anymore,” Friday laughed, “I’m pretty sure it thinks it’s a dog.”
“Great,” Arcade sighed, “just what we need, someone else who is confused about reality.”
“Isn’t that precious,” Lily balled her hands together by her face, if possible looking like the happiest nightkin in the universe, “even Leo thinks it’s cute. Reminds me of baby Becky, back at the Vault! Just like it was yesterday!”
ED-E zoomed closer and the baby snapped playfully at it, causing the eyebot to beep enthusiastically and bob around the infant’s open mouth. The Courier took a step forward, turning her head from side to side and then finally looked over at Arcade.