Bearclaw Valley Angry bird Bomb

A start in life is never easy and very few arrive in this world without a cry or a single mew at least in protest against very uncomfortable change from the warmth and comfort of mother's womb to being pushed and squished, and squeezed out in a hostile and cold place, where you haven't got a single idea, what happens now and what should you do about it.

And just when you think that you have accepted your unlucky fate, new things get introduced. Thus to a little, brown loaf of a puppy came the surprise of opening one eye, have it blink (well, that was odd) and - pop - a second later another eye opens. She waited a little longer, blinked again, in case a third or a fourth or a fifth (not that she had any idea about numbers) opened, but this did not happen. Apparently she was graced with just two oculars. Those would do.

A week later, while lying on her back, while her mother washed her abdomen, the same loaf of a puppy realized that she wiggle those very odd four peduncles (were they called like that?) on either side of her body and that there was a fifth she knew she was moving, but could not see. Apparently it was invisible. A little while after that with the help of whichever parent had been in the vicinity, the little loaf was on it's belly and found out that by moving those odd things, she could get somewhere. In the beginning, however, it was backwards only.

Finally - three weeks later and some more - the loaf, who had mastered the art of moving also forwards, pulled all four of her feet underneath her (on a whim) and pushed herself up. Unsteady and trembling those limbs were, but right before falling back on her round belly and bum, she managed to cast an almost proud (that is what she thought - in reality she looked just as sleepy and dopey as the rest of the litter) glance. As if saying - Look, what I just did!

Alexander was just returning from a short—and unsuccessful—hunt when he turned, steering himself in the direction of his wife’s den. Although he came empty-handed, that did not slow the male down, nor stop him from peeking his head inside of the den to glance around once he reached it; he’d slowed down to a walk beforehand and gave a soft whuff to alert the mother of his children to his arrival, but that was about it. His nose had just crossed into the darkness when the girl fell back on her rump, the sight causing some sort of weird sensation to stir within the depths of his chest; parenthood was a curious thing and continued to be something that he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d ever figure out entirely.

Glancing first at Anna—he searched her expression for any concern that might reflect his own—he took a hesitant step into the den, gaze drifting back over to his daughter. The moment the front half of his body was inside of the den he plopped down on his stomach, tail sweeping lazily over the ground outside of the cozy little domain. Eventually, he tilted his head to the side whilst observing the child, only to right the positioning and give another, softer whuff to try and lure her over to him; could she walk? Did she know who he was? The albino doubted anyone could answer his questions, thus he said not a word but simply watched, instead, curious.

Nunataq found that the sitting position, where her round bum took all of the responsibility for balance, while her hind feet were sticking up in the air (this happens, when someone has a big meal some moments before - you become a balloon). Then a wonderful idea occurred to her and she was about to try it out, when the only light source in the dark den was cut out.

"Hrmph," she huffed in protest, but having not yet mastered grimaces, looked just as sleepy and dopey as before. Then the situation improved a little, because the big mass of fur, flesh, warmth and odd smell lied down, letting the light in again. At this point her eyesight was bad and therefore she could not make out any details of her father's face and form. But she made a brief attempt at staring at her father's chin, but then returned to her earlier idea.

She got herself comfortable, wiggled a little and just at the same time Xan whuffed to lure the baby closer, the said baby pulled her forepaws up from the ground and immediately fell backwards. "Hrmph..."

The child flopped backwards, causing Xan’s own body to jolt upwards. Panic engulfed him as he pushed himself forward, concerned and curious. Was the child okay? What was she doing? He did not ask, doubting the likelihood of receiving an answer—thus, instead, he simply nosed over her, assessing the small girl to assure himself that nothing was out of place on her body.

Nature is no fool, when it creates little, clumsy, predator babies, who have no idea, how to use their limbs correctly or haven't mastered the rules of balance and gravity. Therefore the chubby features and rotund conformation. Nothing bad happened to Nuna, when she fell backwards. For a moment or two she reminded a tortoise flipped on it's back with her feet wriggling in the air and herself trying to roll on one side or the other to get back to a more convenient position. There her father became useful - with the help of his "nosing" - the little brown loaf was back in action in no time.

She turned around and gave him a long, focused look (to his chest - in truth - leaning her head back any further was not yet possible for her) and then she made an attempt at a pounce (an awkward jump really) and landed face first on his forepaws. "Umpha!" she mumbled in his fur.

She played a little while longer and then became tired, and fell asleep.