Wolf RPG

Having not seen his father in many days, Mojag was drawn from the ulaq where he slept alongside mother @Shikoba and in to the world, alone. He had done his best to stay quiet in that time, which was a struggle, and he began to make his way beneath the glow of the sun.

He did not get far. The sounds of children playing in a nearby ulaq distracted him, and as he went to investigate he saw the children of @Kukutux together with some well worn toys. After a few minutes of being watchful, Mojag remembered his original purpose and moved on.

The boy grew bold as he followed the path down from the clustered ulax and was content to roam with the sun upon his back, romping through a cluster of flowers in bloom, then following a stone as it came loose beneath his feet; it tumbled along the path until being tipped over the edge, where he stopped to watch it.

Still, his father was not there. The view from the path held Mojag's attention for a time, being so vast, and filled with multitudes he had yet to make sense of.

She knew this boy.

She watched him, over the tussling form of siblings, as he toddled off after something. Callyope was often times a timid girl, content to stay behind while others grew bold. She did not know what inspired her to chase after the ruddy boy today.

But she felt glad she did.

Even if she did not speak, once more timid now that she was faced with him.

She hummed a song in the back of her throat as a greeting instead.

The little girl - not much smaller than himself to be honest - did not make much noise as she followed after him.

The sound of the wind through the trees was enough cover for the dandelion; that is, until Mojag felt a presence beside himself, and turned to see her too close to the ledge.

He had expected — ah, he wasn't sure. Mojag never felt as though he were alone, even from birth.

Ahh ah! He gawped, rushing to meet her and awkwardly attempt to herd her back.

Ahh ah!

Her eyes widened and her tall ears searched for the sound. As if it had not been the boy who made it, as if a wild bird had just swung by them.

Muh! She shock-sung at him.

And although he had startled her, she was still on good terms with her age mate. So she stumbled back, looking at him with happy little eyes.

She looked startled. At least she moved back, and as her gaze filled Mojag he saw himself reflected back in the blackness of her pupils.

He didn't know what to do next (and wasn't thoughtful in any way, being so young) so he did what came naturally.

Mojag made a show of stomping as close to Calliope as he could and tripped on his too-big-feet, all but flattening her in the process.

Down.

Down, down, down. Flattened beneath the other boy. She yelped with disgruntled anxiety about suddenly being...overpowered.

Weak.

Callyope could only cry, regardless of whether her cousin got back up or not.

They went down together in a heap. Mojag rebounded quickly - though as he did, he stepped hard upon the girl's little tail, and almost tripped himself on her legs where they splayed out.

Her crying was immediate and torrential; his own was delayed by a moment of shock, although tears sprung immediately to Mojag's eyes and his mimicked reaction of crying, quieter than the girl, came as a result of the intense guilt that flooded through him.

As this was the first time Mojag had experienced such noise from another child, he did not know what to do. He didn't know what was right or wrong about how he'd barred her way, and didn't consider it was his accidental steam-rolling antics that might've set her off.

She cried, he cried. As is the way of children.

Eventually, eventually, she seemed to cry herself out. After all the pain (fleeting, really) seemed to fizzle out and her heart no longer pounded in her growing ears.

Or perhaps he cried her out, she did not know nor did the difference matter.

No adults seemed to arrive and they were left only with each other. Two crybabies faced with their first taste of rough tumbling. She would rise, submissive in posture but looking to Mojag once more.

She felt the need to be forgiven, to make up.

They were loud together - storming! Soon he forgot why they made noise and focused only on the making of it, until they were both out of breath and drained of emotion.

His face was damp from tears; but she looked the most sad to him, and Mojag felt supremely worse because of that. He did not know what to do except... when he cried too long or fell and was hurt, anaa would be there. She would kiss his hurts and make him forget.

So without any thoughts in his head except this example, Mojag nosed in close to Callyope and began to administer sloppy kisses to her face; that worked when anaa did it to him!

Kisses!

Her face scrunched but not out of displeasure, more out of the fact that he was so sloppy. Her face once damp from only tears now cleansed by puppy slobber. She could not help but find some bubbling sounds of returned happiness from this.

Mo! She'd fumble out between soft puppy laughter.

His hopes of making her stop crying ended in success, and soon she was laughing! Mojag felt sufficiently pleased with himself - but he didn't want to stop anointing the girl with kisses either.

It had become too entertaining for him. She was soggy and when his tongue swiped different tufts of fur, they stood up for a few seconds, or wilted and curled, which made him laugh right back at her.

Just as his kisses did not cease, her puppy laughter did not either. Too overwhelmed by the ticklish sensation of her fur growing sleek and curling in his licked directions.

It seemed they would grow past their moment of blubbering tears todays.