Sun Mote Copse there are otters in his eyes

He cooed merrily when his mother mouthed him, lifting him from her belly to the spot between her outstretched forelegs. Skipjack snuggled against her chest as her tongue pressed against him, over and over again. Although there was affection in every pass, there was purpose too. This was a bath!

Face freshly scrubbed, the little boy was placed back beside his mother’s flank. Too invigorated to eat or sleep, Skipjack’s tiny lips formed an “o” as he rumbled at no one and nothing in particular. His little tail wriggled and he bobbed his head around the den, dimly registering the various blobs now that his eyelids had parted ever so slightly.

One dark shape was nearer than the others, not that the Bairn possessed much in the way of depth perception. But when he let a second “awoo,” he thrust out a stubby foreleg and found the familiar, wrinkly softness of his sister. Skipjack tugged himself nearer to her, until he could see nothing else but the blurry brown of @Otter’s pelt.

I’m gonna timestamp this for March 12. Anyone’s welcome! :)