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“It’s not just about the herbs, Isidor, they’re getting antisocial! Odonghe are meant to move around, not stick in one place – as are we!”
“I am glad you care for them, Oyun, but you are not understanding. Gorkhon is not so small, we have all of steppe, good water, good grazing for bulls-”
“Why don’t you ever listen to me? You- ah!”
Oyun stopped short with a yelp of surprise. He was at Isidor’s house, sitting at the kitchen table, and something had bitten his leg. He looked down, expecting to see a rat, then narrowed his eyes.
“Isidor, your… child.”
Isidor blinked and looked down to see his son gnawing at Oyun’s ankle, and immediately, his expression melted. He rushed over, tutting, and gently pried the baby off of Oyun, setting him down off to the side, where a few toys were scattered around.
“Now, Tyoma,” he said. “You cannot be biting people! I have told you this before, hm? Come, come, play with toys.” He handed Artemy a stuffed toy that was probably meant to look like a cow.
Oyun was staring at the baby with a sort of disgusted fascination. “Yes, well,” he said. “When did it get teeth?”
Isidor turned back to Oyun and beamed. “His first one came in a month ago! I told you about this, you do not remember?”
Oyun grimaced. “I have far more important things to do than retain every inane little thing you tell me about your son. So, no, I don’t.”
Isidor didn’t miss a beat. “Is very exciting, Oyun! I think he will be very big and strong. Already he is so determined, so curious! And so very sweet. Just yesterday, I am counting white whip, and I drop one. I bend to get it, and there is my little Tyoma, holding it out for me!”
Oyun grunted. “An angel incarnate, I’m sure.”
“Isn’t he? Did I tell you about-”
“Yes, yes, can we get back on topic? The odonghe, Isidor.”
“Ah! Yes, yes, sorry. I had question. Odonghe come to you, say they are unhappy?”
Oyun shifted in his seat restlessly. “No, but they didn’t have to! It’s in their behavior, their moods – we have to change the whole layout of the Abattoir.”
Isidor furrowed his brow in concern. “I speak to odonghe, and to herb brides. I think they have feelings about this. If Abattoir really is not- Artemy!” Isidor cut himself off with a noise that might best be categorized as a shriek, and dashed over to a cupboard, which Artemy had somehow pried open with his small hands to get to a small bottle of unidentifiable liquid, which he was now making a valiant effort to shove into his mouth. Isidor hastily pulled the bottle from him, looked carefully to be sure none of its contents had leaked out, and scooped Artemy into his arms, shutting the cupboard with a bang.
“Artemy! You are not allowed in there! Do not put these things in your mouth!”
Artemy blinked twice in absolute confusion. Then his lip began to wobble.
“Oh- oh, no, no, Artyushe, please-”
The child burst into tears. Isidor, looking supremely guilty, held him to his chest and began cooing softly at him. Oyun looked horrified.
“Perhaps I’ll come back later,” he said, slowly standing from his chair.
“Ah! No, no, this is important meeting, I have no time- shh, Artyushe, it is all right, I am not angry with you, Aba is here- I am sorry, Oyun, he is teething, little bit, eh, fussy.”
Oyun looked warily at Artemy. “How long will that take?”
“Teething?” Isidor glanced up from Artemy, who was now chewing on one of Isidor’s fingers, still crying. “Should last… a year or so, I think.”
Oyun didn’t bother to hide his dismay. “A year? How will you get anything done? Can’t you- I don’t know, put it in its room or something?”
“Ha! You are funny, Oyun. Do not worry, he is growing fast.” Isidor’s eyes grew misty for a moment. “Very fast. Do you think he will be taller than me?”
Oyun looked skeptically at Artemy. “No. I do not.”
“I think he will,” Isidor said, beaming. “Now. We were talking about problem with odonghe. I talk to them, talk to herb brides – we agree on this, yes?”
“I’d really prefer if you did more than- sweet mother Boddho, it’s eating you.”
Isidor looked down at Artemy. “He is only feeling out new teeth. Do not worry, Oyun, is normal for healthy boy his age.”
“I wasn’t worried-” Oyun scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine. I’m leaving.”
Isidor nodded. “If you are sure you needed nothing else. You are always welcome!”
Oyun made a noncommittal noise. “Right. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Oyun. Wave goodbye, Tyoma!”
But Oyun was out the door before Artemy even looked around.