Family, please. :)
Although he was unaware, it would be another week before Malrok's eyes opened. His existence consisted of thrashing (both while awake and asleep), eating, pooping, and peeing. He also practiced crawling away from his siblings, likely to his mother's dismay. Today was much like every other day of his life, and Malrok had just awoken from his active sleep state to seek out food. He squeaked once or twice, crawling over some sibling before finding his mark. He immediately latched to his mother's teat, drinking the warm milk. For now, he was content.
He was slowly settling into this whole existing thing, finding some routine in the day-to-day events of eating, sleeping and pooping. Somewhere in those activities was also playing, though that really just consisted of him wiggling around, trying to make sense of his limbs. Just now, Sitamat was quite happily dozing, nestled between two mini-heaters, before suddenly their bodies shuffled and a stray limb pressed against his face. He released a startled cry and moved to lay himself across the disturber of the peace so he could resume his nap.
Malrok grunted as Sitamat crawled over him, though he managed to keep his hold on the source of warm, nourishing liquid. He drank and drank, dribbling milk down his chin as he ate until his stomach was full. Detaching from the mother entity, he squirmed beneath Sitamat. All except one was roughly the same size as Malrok, so it was no easy task to wriggle out from under the fourth-born. His baby muscles squirmed and twitched as he wrestled himself free of entrapment, finally slipping out from underneath the darkest of the brothers. He halted then, catching his breath before his next move.
Forcing his ever-restless brother to lay still was no easy feat. While Sitamat's tactic of pinning him with his own pudgy body had worked, the peace only lasted for so long. Sure enough, Malrok began wiggling and squirming again, and the youngest complained loudly but wordlessly as he tried to manoeuvre himself so his brother could not escape. However, after a few more wriggles, he managed to break free. Sitamat met the cold dirt with a squeak, flopping onto his back. His tiny paws flailed, kicking wildly at the air as he tried to upright himself again.
Although Malrok could not hear well, if a sound was loud enough, he would swivel his head in that direction. Which was exactly what he did when he heard Sitamat's squeak. Ever-curious, Malrok began to move toward the source of the noise, head wobbling and front legs slowly dragging him along. His back legs also kicked at the earth, though they did little to help him move forward. When Malrok was close enough, one of Sitamat's hind legs kicked him right in the face, causing the wolf cub to sneeze almost immediately (and toot at the same time). His nose wrinkled afterward, and he attempted to use a paw to rub his muzzle, though he was unsuccessful.
Like a turtle, Sitamat rocked on his back, his stubby limbs uselessly flailing at the air. His feet managed to connect with something — his brother — only for it to then draw back immediately. The shock of hitting something as well as the momentum he gained from Malrok caused the youngest to stop his thrashing and roll over onto his side. Success! With effort, the boy found his legs again and wobbly uprighted himself. Disoriented (and quite hungry now), Sitamat moved towards the second-born who had just released a curious odour, using his nose as a probe as he gently prodded his brother's face.
Something touched his face, and Malrok made a curious noise in response. With a swing of his own head, he sniffed at the "intruder," only to realize it was just another of his siblings. He could not tell them from one another just yet... at least not with any precision. That would come with trial and error. Besides, he did not care who was who at this point. A sibling was a sibling. (Friendly) competition. Malrok stuck his shorty, stubby tongue out to lick his brother's muzzle. It tasted nothing like milk, but it was different from the ground below him. (He'd gotten a mouthful of that at some point or another.)
Gently, Sitamat examined his brother's face, familiar with the scent but having never studied it this closely before — they were usually much too busy shoving their faces into Tonravik's belly. His own nose poked Malrok's, testing the strange texture, before suddenly something small and wet flicked up and licked his muzzle. With a startled sneeze, the youngest froze in place for a few moments, his brain processing what just happened. It was a familiar sensation, but often it came from above and was much larger. He shoved his nose into Malrok's own again, aiming to get him to do it again.
Fade with your next post? Trying to keep these puppy threads short and sweet. ^__^
A spray of mucus from Sitamat's sneeze startled Malrok, and he jerked himself backward, rolling onto his side. Wailing, the boy managed to get himself back on his belly, his muzzle crashing into Sitamat's once more. His head wobbled unsteadily, the muscles in his neck not quite strong enough to hold it up for extended amounts of time. Again, he stuck out his tongue to taste his brother's short muzzle, finding that it was no different than the last time he had done so.
Soon, he grew bored with this endeavor, and he yawned wide. In mere moments, he went from curious to drowsy, head settling onto the ground as he started to drift to sleep.
No problem! <3
The strange object retreated, before suddenly returning with full force right into Sitamat's own muzzle in a rough sort of
boop. The boy was pushed back from the momentum, resulting in a comical pendulum effect as he unintentionally mimicked Malrok's own fall. He struggled to right himself, even after his brother lost interest in the activity and dozed off.
Eventually, the last born was able to roll onto his side. Exhausted from the effort, he nosed around until he found Malrok's soft side, releasing his own yawn before letting his head nestle into the other cub's furry shoulder, quickly drifting off to sleep.