Wolf RPG

Familiar paths led Tuwawi back to her den following Bazi's pack gathering, though her pace slowed just outside the den. Here is was quiet... serene... placid. The burrow laid undisturbed, the puppies napping for now. Quickly they were growing, and already they had begun to walk around independently on wobbly legs, still fighting for their place at her side. But soon they would be on solid food, though the mother wished for their infancy to never end.

Her eyes softened. What was the pack to do? Fox was missing. Was she injured? Dead in a ditch somewhere? Her constant provocation of Sunspire was an agitation to the Sveijarn, who wished only to protect her young. Tuwawi thought of Bazi, her comrades, and Njal. What was to become of all of this?

Slowly, she reclined in the mouth of their home beneath the young beech trees to await Danica's arrival. The caches nearby were full and the shrubbery was dense, providing perfect cover for those who needed a place to recuperate. Yet the silence was not to last.

(btw this is open to anybody :-) )

The world around Valtyr was a strange place, and the young boy could not know of the strife which plagued his family. Sleeping, eating, and playing were the only desires in his mind and he performed each with gusto. His body grew day by day, and though his vitality was strong, the effort of growing bones tired him. He was the lankiest in the bunch, and almost always played the submissive role to pacify his more demanding sisters. But he loved them, like he loved everyone. Hate was not an emotion he knew.

Though his slumber was deep, it was not enough to keep him resting when the familiar scent of mother wafted into the Sveijarn domicile. Drowsily, his head popped up and tummy rumbled (when didn't it?). He found his legs beneath him, twelve o'clock trail steadying his balance, and marched to greet his dam with a wanton chirp.

His eyes squinted as his stubby muzzle peaked into the outside, lush and verdant as always. A familiar fire-blazed figure lounged nearby. "MmmmmMa," he cooed as he stumbled forth towards her vermilion hair, seeking her presence and comfort.

Thoughts swam in Tuwawi's mind, considering her past, present, and future. Her husband had gone with the search party to find Fox, though... was she really worth finding? The mother snorted, lowering her maw to absently sniff at the sweet grass. She had been biding her time, for a long while, and a backseat was her preferred place in order to tend and cultivate her blossoming family, though she toyed with a different idea.

Her pondering was interrupted as a squeaking word came from the den. Her slender head turned over a red shoulder, spotting her firstborn waddling out into the midday sun. MmmMa! he called to her quietly... a clever child who dare not disturb his siblings. "My little Val," she said as she reached out to him, encouraging his unsteady steps towards her.

Downy gray newborn fur had molted to reveal his true colors, though muted by a fuzzy puppy coat. He was a sandy boy, murky and sooty - pattern grizzled like his father. Yet unlike his northern sire, Valtyr's fur was made of wheaty brown and grays - as well as hot licks of flame-colored fur up his weedy legs. Blue eyes had begun to dark, though not yet completely, and Tuwawi couldn't help but admire her child, proud of the strong children she had brought into the world.

She turned her body towards him, stomach facing the den and back against the outside, as if to make sure his journey would be undisturbed. Peaceful times were optimum for child-rearing, however the threat of Sunspire made it difficult for Tuwawi to not feel anxious as her children tussled outside the den. Swiftcurrent's wolves often went on patrols and raids, and with Njal gone to find Fox, it left few bodies to tend to the youngest. "It has been a long day, hasn't it?" she asked him as he made his way, though the child had probably spent the day snoozing.

I'll respond with Val first then Tuwa :-)

Boldly he marched into the world, leaving the comfort of the den behind to join his mother on the summer kissed grass. Trips into the outside had been brief for the boy, never straying too far without supervision, and he was truly the last one to make such an excursion out to the glen. At first, his confidence was shining, stiff-legged step after stiff-legged step with a dumb smile squishing chubby cheeks. Orange ember ears turned towards Tuwawi as she spoke to him, her silky voice ushering him on. "Maaa," he cooed again, pausing to feel the cool vegetation beneath his paws.

'Mmmmmaaa' he could hear Maera call from the den. He turned to look at her, but suddenly a stray gust of wind ruffled the trees, howling through the branches. Even though Tuwawi did not flinch, Valtýr hit the deck. This new sensation was not explainable. His tiny heart fluttered with anxiety as instinct warned the Sveijarn child to be cautious. Was this... fear? Wide eyes looked to the sky, to his mother, and back to Maera as he whimpered, trying to make sense of it all.

Tuwawi admired her son as he strutted into the sun, his soft features undecided whether to take after his sire or dam. Briefly he paused, regarding the new sensation of grass beneath his paws, as his sister, Maera, called to her from the den. Each were finding their own voice, their tones vastly different despite their similar beginnings. Even from birth their personalities were a rainbowed spectrum ranging from the stalwart Jokull to the more tender Larus. The young mother never knew what to expect next from her get, but it was an exciting venture. For the time being, their innocent faces helped melt away Tuwawi's worries about Swiftcurrent's fate and remind her what was truly important in life.

A strong zephyr shook the young beech trees which created the roof over their burrow. Valtyr immediately slunk to the ground, startled by the wooshing leaves and whispering breeze. Tuwawi watched him, observing his reaction to forest's ways. How curious this little child was... how new everything must be to him. Her desire to comfort him was great, and quickly she acted, slender neck reaching forth so that her muzzle brushed against him to provide security to her child. "Just the wind and trees," she told him in a soft voice.

Tuwawi turned onto her side, rolling in the grass to reveal her underside and the single source of nourishment her children had known for the last month of their lives. Their milk teeth had come in, making nursing painful, but still she persisted to let them suckle, wanting to linger on their infancy for as long as she was able. Quietly she chuffed to the others, inviting them out into the clearing for lunch.

She fought to stay awake, to keep her eyes fixed on mommy's face and her brother's butt, which seemed to be getting away from her. With her chin resting upon her pudgy paws she gave in, allowing her eyelids to drape over her eyes. But when she was about to enter the pool of the unconsciousness her brother's shriek made her jolt.

With her little ears swiveling on her cranium the young girl lifted her head. Her eyes met Valtýr's shivering figure, what had happened to him? A sudden sense of worry pounded in her heart --still it wasn't enough to encourage the babe to stand. A simple whine of support would suffice. "Laa" she called out before being interrupted by a vicious growl of her tummy.

And as expected Tuwawi responded promptly by rolling on her side, exposing the precious source of food the quartet had shared until now. Seeing her opportunity Maera sprang to her feet and attempted to run before the queen--Jokull--realized that supper was served.

A feeble, quivering cry was all Valtýr could emit as his tiny body remained paralyzed by instinct. He didn't understand why he felt this way; why the sound had come so suddenly. Only the peaceful caress of his mother's muzzle could pacify his worries, and upon contact he rushed to her breast for protection. He whimpered as Tuwawi spoke to him in a placid tone, her scent and presence almost immediately washing away the nasty feelings. He would remember this, though... the feeling of fear. And those dammed noisy trees.

She turned to her side, and he pudgy boy didn't need to be told twice what to do. He stumbled over Tuwawi's deadgrass foreleg as he hurried to her bellly (to beat Maera and Jokull, of course... which almost never happened); appetite always insatiable. Soon joined by Maera and suckled greedily, though his new needle-like teeth complicated things a bit. He couldn't notice the change in Tuwawi's body, or know this type of meal was soon to end, and so he enjoyed the warm, flavorful milk and took it for granted.

((Last round? ^__^ ))

Tuwawi could barely see Maera's saffron head in the darkness of the den, two bright and gleaming little eyes peering out into the daylight. There was concern in her gaze, even at this young age, for her brother (though she appeared to think he could handle whatever spooked him). Tuwawi wondered what their relationship would be like in the future as the quartet grew up together. Her own family had been fragmented; a missing mother and estranged sister. Tuwawi — previously known as Fauve — had known no pack before Kindred, and only hazy memories of her birth family remained.

Even two parents and a pack were no guarantee their family unit would stay intact. There was bound to be squabbles, weren't there? Would they fight? Would her children someday detest her? Would she raise them right? As a first-time mother, Tuwawi did not know these answers - she could only speculate the future; but she knew she had life, love, and loyalty.

Quickly, her children shuffled to her side. Valtyr first, Maera second, and the other two were soon to join. They nursed voraciously, pushing against her tummy as they jostled for the best spot at the milk bar. Tiny puppy teeth made the whole ordeal nearly unbearable, yet Tuwawi was a doting mother, and not even the pain from four sets of needle-point fangs could keep her from nursing. Their first real meal will have to be soon, Tuwawi thought as she shifted uncomfortably. Surely, Njal would not want to miss that milestone.

Though there was no telling how their relationship would turn once the years began to roll by, it was highly unlikely their fights (if any) would last very long. Maera was fond of each of her siblings, and though she had greater affinity with her dear sister, she worried for the boys too. Even if she didn't show it as much. Perhaps the only ones who got a real taste of the girl's affection were mommy and daddy, and that was only once in a while. From a young age Maera had begun to show a bit of autonomy.

Maera's mouth reached Tuwawi's teat, her shoulder brushing against Valtyr's she gave a little grr to her brother while she began sucking the nourishing meal provided from mommy. Occasionally her needle fangs clamped on her mother's teat. They had a lot to be thankful for -- a patient and loving mother being a main one.

Sibling rivalry was a healthy thing, and when Maera's impressive grrrrr accompanied a little shoulder buffer, Valtyr pressed hard against his mother to secure his spot. RrrrrRrrrrr he buzzed as he suckled, like a little engine that could. He wasn't nearly as passive as brother Larus, but there was little that could be done against his lively sisters.

His kin was his love, and already Valtyr shared a deep connection with each of them... even the burly little Jokull, who often squashed her brothers in competition. The connection of blood was valued, and as Valtyr grew older he would realize just how much of an asset having a strong family would be.