He was sleeping. He not long ago fed, and his mother and helped him to expel and be cleaned of the waste from his feeding prior to that. Though he was not aware, around him his family also slept, and there was peace in the den. What he was aware of was the quiet, not as perceived by his still-deaf ears, but by his body. There was not jostling, no shifting... or there was not, until he decided that he needed to wriggle to re-situate himself. He squirmed between his brothers, Atuaserk and Malrok, until he was on his side and his legs were flopped over Malrok's body. The third born was now effectively spooning him, and for the cherry on top he stuck his nose in his brother's ear.
Something—or rather, someone—jostled Malrok awake. He awoke slowly, eyes blinking even though they were sealed shut. The dull ache in his belly, accompanied with the nose in his ear, was enough to send him wriggling about. He had trouble getting onto his belly (probably because it was so round) and he began to wail in response. In fact, it was one of the only responses he had. And he did it often. Tiny frail legs failed uselessly in front of him, and he gurgled. Either the mother entity was not around, or she had decided to let them work it out amongst themselves.
He was comfortable now, and slipped back into sleep easily. Unfortunately, his comfort had become his brother's discomfort, which circled back around to become further discomfort of his own as Malrok wormed around. One of his brother's flailing paws clopped him in the head, and he was fine with that, but when the second one bonked him in the ear he squeaked sharply, in the direction from which the blows came. His mouth was held open for a moment, like a snake daring its attacking to move in. Then it closed, and he pulled himself in a search for comfort until this time he found himself using his brother for a rug, and had flopped his body across him.
Another squirming body was soon on top of him, and Malrok protested like nobody's business. He wriggled and writhed, unhappy with this latest advancement. He rolled, Pingasut fell off, and Malrok began to squeak due to lack of warmth and touch. Just then, the great mother beast put him back next to his red brother. Malrok was content for a moment, though no more than three seconds passed before he started thrashing about again. There was no reason for him to do so, Malrok just did. He was fussy to the extreme, constantly moving about and full of energy (unless he was passed out or suckling).
This worked for him, but it did not work for his brother, who writhed beneath him. Not inclined to move, the third born held on, but he was dislodged with a squeak when Malrok rolled and his physical presence disappeared from Pingasut's side. Before he had a chance to 'think' on this, his mother had swooped in to restore the warm body to him. He immediately turned into and snuggled against his brother.
But then his brother began to thrash again.
When nothing stopped it, he let out an audible breath of air, a sort of primitive sigh. He crawled forward, and by some stroke of luck, found his brother's head. He reached out a paw and dropped it on top of Malrok's crown, awkwardly patting it and brushing it, whichever happened to occur when he made an effort to move his paw.
Something touched Malrok's head, and he stiffened, unsure of it for a total of two heartbeats. Soon, though, he recognized it was not a threat and began to flex his little front toes. He had stopped thrashing, at least, and the only sound he made came from breathing. The paw wrinkled the stretchy skin on his forehead, but Malrok did not seem to mind one bit. In fact, it was pretty damn soothing. Of course, Malrok wasn't one to be content for long, so he opened his mouth and tried to get his brother's limb into his mouth so that he might taste it.
Ooohh... His fumbling paw movements seemed to have an effect on the disturbance that was his thrashing brother. This pleased the little red boy, whose stubby tailed twitched back and forth in a happy wag. He snuggled in, prepared now to nap, but alas, the peace was not meant to last. Soon his paw was trapped in a wet environment that he did not care for at all. He squeaked and made to draw his paw back into dry warmth, somewhere comfortable unlike his brother's mouth.
It tasted nothing like the warm liquid that he usually drank with reckless abandon. In fact, it didn't taste good at all, and Malrok was quick to spit out the pudgy, fragile paw that he'd gummed and sucked on. Still, it was something new, and that only caused Malrok to be more curious. "New" was a concept that he did not quite know, but his instinct was to seek out any and all new and strange things and test them. Whether they were good or bad would determine how he would react to them, of course.
With the paw dislodged from his mouth, Malrok sought to taste a flappy piece of flesh and fur that was Pingasut's ear. It was perhaps the first time Malrok had been both awake and quiet for this length of time in one go.
His paw was free, but now his brother sought his ear. Initially, the third born protested with a soft squeak and began to fidget, but in a matter of moments his attitude changed. He grew still as he realized that his brother's toothless jaws did not feel as strange on his ear as they did on his paw. Rather, Pingasut found it soothing, although on occasion his brother's breath tickled his ear and he chittered. Soon though, he was canting his head toward Malrok, quietly savoring the touch.
Still sucking on his brother's ear, Malrok readjusted his front paws so that they were no longer folded beneath him. There, that was definitely more comfortable, and comfort was one of the number one things that the second-born sought out. He continued to gum the ever-loving crap out of Pingasut's ear, eventually drifting off to sleep as he so often did. This was the cycle: wake, eat, fuss, get comfortable, fall back asleep. It was an easy life, though he would soon leave it behind in favor of surviving on his own.
In a way, the third born had sought to calm his brother, and in a way he had succeeded. Malrok had stopped fussing and now was pulled into slumber; he could be no more peaceful. Slowly, the gumming on a fox-like ear ceased, and it was about the same time that the litter's oddball followed suit and drifted into sleep himself. Once more, the den was quiet and serene.