He was an observant pup, and he had seen how the blue of his siblings eyes had begun to give way to other colors. But his eyes had not begun to change, and nor would they. He did not know it yet, but blue was his color, and it was here to stay. Among his observations were that his paws were so much smaller than his brother's, and that their shoulders were not only broader, but had started to rise above his own. But he was not concerned, and certainly not deterred. When he spotted
One crossing the denning area, isolated from any other family member, he dropped the stick he had been chewing and rushed his brother. Jaws open, tail flying, he meant to engage his sibling in a playful spar, his first intent to grab the other pup's muzzle.
Today, the boy had been lazy. He hadn't had much intention of getting up and wandering around, and so opted to sprawl in the spot he had chosen. He lay there for a while before moving again when Malrok came to sit near him. Had the boy known that his brother would rush and attack him, he might not have been so relaxed, but there was no way for him to even know until he heard the tiny thunder of paws speeding in his direction. Head lifted in time to spy a reddish blur hurtling towards him, causing him to try and scramble out of the way. Not quite making it, the boy tumbled with his brother, snarling as best he could as he yanked his muzzle back out of Ping's reach.
Head ducked instinctively while his skinny tail lashed behind his furry form, eyes narrowed into a glare. He knew it was play but his play was much rougher than the innocence his brother had likely meant to engage him in. Charging his brother, his own jaws snapped and tried to capture an ear or even his scruff, the sensitive spots that the adults had taught him so far. Fur on end, the boy looked more like a puff ball than ever but gave this no mind as he faced his smaller sibling.
His teeth clicked on empty air, missing One's muzzle. Atuaserk snarled, but the fox was silent, as he had always been, facing his sibling with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes and a devilish smile. He was not bothered by the rough approach his sibling took, having grown accustomed to such style. Even their mother was rough. The fox could be gentle, but he was learning how to handle different individuals, how to match them to best get along, and so he returned Atuaserk's coarseness.
His brother lunged and managed to seize his scruff after he ducked his ear out of reach. Captured, the fox pointed his muzzle down and aimed several fast nips at his brother's legs and toes. The wild swinging of his tail spoke to his enjoyment of this game.