It was the asscrack of dawn, and Taurus had been woken by the shrill wails of the infant. He had no name for her. 'Baby', 'brat', 'noisy, smelly burden', they all seemed to suffice just fine in the place of a proper name. Something he had to find out soon enough, otherwise he'd never be able to find the kid's parents and be rid of her at last. All he had to go on was a birthmark in the shape of a serpent on her right forearm, which wasn't much, considering. He couldn't just go around towns asking 'Hey, anyone missing a baby with a snake on it's arm?' Even with his limited knowledge of things outside of goring matadors, the Minotaur knew enough that things like that just weren't done.
However, the birthmark did spell out all kinds of Mythic. With extra Myth. He wouldn't be surprised if he found a legendary sword or book of spells to go with the baby like some sort of horribly conventional accessory. A crown would be even more predictable. And if a prince charming got thrown into the mix, Taurus would be sure to send him on his merry way with a good hoof-to-the-fracas.
Still, it was early, and judging by the smell it was time to make use of that stream they were camping by to clean her rags and give her fresh ones.
Taurus had learned a lot about human babies over the past few months, like what they ate and how it smelled afterwards. This infant was moving from goat's milk to various steamed and mashed root vegatables the Minotaur dug up. He was good at getting food for the two of them, and he had become rather partial to cabbage and artichokes steamed in garlic. (On his travels, a human mother had taken pity on the unexpected caretaker of a child, and taught him the basics of cooking. Taurus had proved quite adept at it, and decided firmly once he found this child's parents and he was free to live among the humans, he'd open a restaurant).
The wailing had stopped when Taurus removed the soiled rag, cleaned the squirming baby with a damp one, and tied on a fresh piece of cloth. He could hear the chatter of birdsong not far off, and twitched his ears in the direction most of it was coming from. It could easily be the calls of hunters.
No. Just birdsong. He returned his attention to the child, finding it difficult to be enamoured with the music of nature when the lyrics went along the lines of 'this is my tree! Go find your own!', 'guard the eggs, the falcon's back!', or 'Have sex with me! I can fan my tail out this far!'
Not much different from human songs for that matter. Just more to the point.
"Smelly thing." He griped, letting her wrap her tiny hands around his massive, clawed index finger. She gurgled and blew spittle bubbles to voice her approval, and Taurus sighed. The rags could wait a bit to be washed.[/i]
