Wolf RPG

He had found the best spot. Snuggled in the nook where Tonravik's hind leg connected to her stomach, Sitamat slept soundly, his round belly gurgling, full and content. Warmth surrounded him from all sides, his mother's long, dark fur intwining with his own downy coat. One of his siblings — who, he did not know — had positioned themselves in front of him, effectively becoming a dam wall and keeping Sitamat's roly-poly body from tumbling down from his comfortable spot and onto the cold ground.

Malrok, like his siblings, was a simple creature. He cared for little except warmth, food, and comfort. Though he did not know it, he currently held his brother Sitamat from the fate of falling to the dirt floor. Now, he awoke, squirming his way from the place of warmth and comfort in search of food. In the process, he would dislodge his brother and send him rolling in whatever direction gravity decided to take him.

Unfortunately for Malrok, he had started off in the wrong direction, and was now surrounded by nothing but air on all sides except for the bottom, which was more dirt. He cried out for help.

He had been nestled soundly beside his siblings, leaning heavily against Sitamat, or warm spot number two as he may as well been known. He enjoyed the contact, the extra heat and comfort and that came with pressing close to the bodies near him. Suddenly though, the brother he had been leaned against tumbled away from him, causing the third born to flop to the side and flail a bit before he could right himself. He squeaked, surprised, as his nose probed around him, trying to make sense of this disturbance in his environment.

Tonravik herself was wrapped around her cubs, legs creating a barrier with her mountainous body on the other side. Knowing they were safe in the makeshift cage she had created with her figure, she snoozed lightly. An ear twitched as she heard one cub drop downward... and flicked again when Malrok began to fuss. Tonravik felt three near her belly, and as of yet did not move. She could only lazily hope that the second-born would figure it out before she had to disturb herself and deposit her near her belly again. The alpha female liked to believe that typical cubs could not do such things, but her cubs could simply because they were the product of she and her mate. Iqniq was a bright wolf, and she imagined he always had been even when they had first met... she had simply drawn it out of him. The beast of a wolf was not imaginative, but she felt as though her doing this played at the very threads of who they would be and become. If her cub continued to wail, however, she would thrust him near his brothers. The mother was too impatient to be bothered, and had planned on getting a brief amount of shut-eye while they fed.

Suddenly, the dam wall shifted. Sitamat woke with a start, releasing a small grunt that would otherwise be a vicious snarl if he were many months older. Instead, his noises were soft and high-pitched, his tiny vocal chords not being able to manage anything fiercer than that. Still, he expressed his annoyance at the sudden movement, before Malrok moved even further away and sent him tumbling onto the dirt below, disturbing Pingasut on his way down.

The pile of puppies were suddenly in distress. Malrok had become separated from the huddle of warmth while the smallest tired to make sense of the commotion, with Sitamat loudly expressing his disdain for the sudden change in his formerly quite comfortable environment.

No help came to him, and he was unaware of his other brothers' struggles. They were competition to him, nothing more. He knew that they occasionally provided him comfort, but that was only as he lay sleeping. Awake, they only got in the way, giving him yet another obstacle he had to work around. Back to the task at hand. Nothing but open air surrounded him on all sides, his belly was cold, and nobody was helping. His head wobbled as he sniffed the air to the left, then to the right. Still no help. Malrok began to cry loudly, persistently, waiting for something to save him from this bleak existence that consisted only of air and dirt.

No good. No good at all. Suddenly there was much unrest around him. He could not hear the cries of his brothers but he could feel it in a way. Oddly though, the litter's wee ember was inclined to move toward the disruption. Slowly, he pulled himself forward using his forepaws, for his hind legs had yet to become useful to him. When he bumped into the first unruly sibling, who happened to be Sitamat, he nuzzled in close, rubbing his muzzle against his brother's body before his little legs clamored over him and he became a beautiful drape upon his brother's back. Malrok, unfortunately, was left out in the cold.

Some long minutes passed, and as her son continued to wail, Tonravik at last rose to pick him up and deposit him near a teat. She inspected the other bear cubs and they seemed content to do what they would... no, that was Sitamat she heard. Wrinkling her muzzle, she nosed the redhead aside, where he would slide between the last born and second born. Atuaserk was well behaved. She rewarded him with a swift lick to his back, before she nudged the body of Sitamat toward her belly, hoping a teat would cause him to fall into silence. Something like a pacifier.

His complaints drew one of his brothers closer, unbeknownst to the youngest. His cries quietened into subdued whimpers and he stiffened as something warm and soft prodded his back before climbing atop it. The sensation felt strange but he welcomed it, shifting into a more comfortable position as Pingasut acted as a sort of security blanket.

It only lasted mere moments, however, as Tonravik roused and nosed the cubs around, rescuing Malrok and ridding Sitamat of his fiery cloak. He released another shrill cry at the disturbance, before he was swiped across the ground and his wailing mouth found a teat, which he promptly latched onto greedily.

He was placed back where he belonged, and it was there that he would stay. Greedily, he latched himself to food, drinking and drinking. Even if his brothers managed to pull him free, he would find his way back. They were competition, but he was strong. And when he had finally had his fill, he would nestle himself among them, drifting off into that sweet, sweet sleep that he loved so much. It would be some time before he awoke, but he had little sense of time to begin with.

His brother calmed beneath him, and the runt's tail twitched back and forth with delight. But their mother had other ideas. She nosed him aside, and he slipped down between two of his other brothers, half on his side and half on his back. He squirmed until he had righted himself, and was about to crawl back toward the renewed disturbance, but it was over as quick as it begun. He settled then, and wriggled closer to his mother's belly, where he too found a teat and suckled until he fell asleep.

Her success was near-immediate, and the mother of four was thankful for it. Her dark eyes looked to each child who suckled away... and feeling satisfied all was well, Tonravik adjusted herself only slightly so that her body could behave as a natural barrier so her children would not escape her. The sound of them suckling had become something she was now used to, and was oddly enough to lull her into a light sleep. As ever, she remained partially alert, one ear perked upward to listen for anything odd that merited her waking.