It was nice to see Alexei get excited about the fields of Wooloo; there was a sparkle in his eyes that only the little sheep seemed to bring out.

“Hey, I got him like this,” Memo said, jerking a thumb in Jove’s direction. “He didn’t get enough love as a child, or something.”

Jove snorted, a throaty, wet sound.

“He certainly wasn’t raised by you,” Memo said, grinning.

A shadow passed overhead-- one of Alexei’s Pokemon doing a round of surveillance and making sure everything was okay.

“Don’t you shear them?” Memo asked, looking over Will and Smokey’s briefly technicolor coats. He brushed his hand over the latter’s soft head, unaware he was even doing it; he’d adopted the family as his own, and quickly. “‘Cause if their fleece gets too long, they can’t move. S’what the Pokedex says.”

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉

“Aw, I bet they look cute,” Memo insisted, thinking it was pretty much impossible for a Wooloo to not look cute.

Memo tilted his head curiously, awaiting Alexei’s question; as soon as the first words left the blonde’s lips, he had already devolved into giggles.

“Oh, my god,” he snickered, sweeping his hair out of his face with a faux-pained look, “we gotta find you something else to watch besides Family Feud reruns.” But even as he said it, it was unconvincing, more laughter than spoken word.

Of course, Jove had to ruin the moment. As though to answer Alexei’s protestations, Jove swung his head 'round and took a big chomp out of the blonde’s pant leg, ripping a section of fabric loose from the calf portion of his bottoms. Jove chewed the material for a few seconds, goat style, then spat it out, where it was lifted up and carried away in the wind.

“Jove,” Memo hissed, secretly grateful it wasn’t part of his velvet Tom Ford tracksuit. He gave his Dubwool a gentle push with his hip and shooed the grouchy sheep away. Jove baaa’d irritably and meandered down the hillside, munching as he went.

“Sorry about your pants,” Memo said, though he couldn’t keep the smile off his face, “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉

“Of course I have,” Memo said, snickering still. “You send me videos and I watch ‘em.” They were always funny, even if Memo was only laughing because he thought it was adorable Alexei was sending him Family Feud compilations.

But a brother had a soft spot for Steve Harvey.

Jove was still meandering away in complete disregard for any feelings he may have hurt. The boy just didn’t care. He was 100lbs of not giving a damn. Sometimes, Memo aspired to be him.

“I’m sorry. I guess you could say, evolving isn’t in their jeans.”

He was trying so hard not to break out in laughter.

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉

His face reddened and breath thin from laughter, he released Zuza, just so he could lean back against the warmth of her body. She ruffled his hair with her soft nose, then went to grazing, just as the Wooloo in the field. He let his head tip back and he closed his eyes.

God, a quiet day. What a dream. A day where they could both just chill there, in the sun, together, watching the Wooloo and having a laugh. Nothing trying to kill them. Nothing trying to shit on them. A day where the worst thing they had to worry about was a cranky old goat.

“Would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉

“Ah, I don’t think he’d actually hurt you,” Memo said, surprising himself by sticking up for Jove. But even that cantankerous old goat was a part of his family, now.

There was a pang in his heart and a catch in his throat. Family.

“He’s-- ah, he’s just a grump,” he said, fighting down an unexpected wave of emotion. He cleared his throat to cover it up-- if Alexei asked, he’d blame it on allergies.

“I don’t honestly know,” Memo said, thinking back on his life experiences and wondering what may have made Jove… Jove. “I don’t think he was dropped. I think, more likely, he just didn’t have a loving, supportive parent. Like Will and Smokey have you.”

And I have no one. He tensed his fingers in Zuza’s mane, but forced himself to smile. He was not ruining this day with the unexpected emos.

"We have a saying, back home. A veces, un trasero es sólo un trasero. It means, sometimes an ass is just an ass."

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉

Memo snickered.

“Probably.”

Jove was wandering further and further away from them, grazing as he went. It was mighty powerful flatulence to make it all the way up the hill and foul the sweet breeze rushing across the fields.

“I wonder if he’s gonna be a bad influence for all the Wooloo out there,” Memo mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

---

mission: wooloo who cry wolf
wearing, but with sneakers

Alexei Ivanov

☉