Work Text:
A sound that Toshiko had never been curious to hear was the impact of a deceased, unshorn sheep on a concrete floor. Unfortunately, she learned the sound when it made her head jolt up from her desk, erasing a nonsensical coding dream. She couldn't identify the noise, or even how she might render it to understand it, until she saw blood and wool. Fwoomp?
Ianto stood a few meters from it, wide-eyed and unmoving. A flap of wings and a squawk clarified the sheep's source; Myfanwy circled well above, but in a path that stayed near Ianto's overhead space.
"Present from a pterodactyl," Toshiko said, "or is that the takeaway you ordered?" She blinked out some sleep, then selected her translation program, section for private jokes...
"She eats them, not me," Ianto said. He warily stepped towards the dead sheep. "Why didn't she take it to her nest? And didn't we decide she's a pteranodon?"
"Pteranodon torchwoodi trium?"
"Did it—" And then he backed up as Myfanwy landed nearby, looking expectant for a dinosaur. She crooned and nudged the corpse with her head.
"You were saying?"
He approached the sheep slowly, as if it might rise and bleat. Torchwood, after all. "I think you're right, but just because I'm Welsh, did it have to be a sheep?"
Myfanwy's foot nudged into the wool and rolled it closer.
"Lamb curry?" Toshiko suggested unseriously. She couldn't visualize eating something she'd heard 'fwoomp'.
"Could be wool for matching team jumpers?" Ianto's gaze moved to her, eyebrows slightly lifted.
Toshiko smiled. "Only if the blood comes out and they have matching Myfanwy silhouettes."
"Wool specially delivered by the mascot herself. Fine local crafts."
"Maybe," Toshiko said, opening a drawer to remove a rolled fabric case. Myfanwy had limits. "But can she hold knitting needles?"