Overly large paws and head to big for shoulders or so it seemed came tripping out from the den. Little noises in his throat nonsense words as he babbled to himself. Trying so hard to say those first words.
He had mama and dada down, but they were basically blabber. It was frustrating not that he knew the word yet that he couldn't speak.
He was steady on his paws until his almost straight ears would flop in his face or his overly large paws would catch something. Then he'd go sprawling.
A large stick caught his attention and as he rushed for it a root caught his toe tips and down he went, with a roll and landed in an ungraceful heap. He chattered to himself in nonsense absolutely incensed. Until the stick caught his attention again and he pounced.
Skáld had begun to push himself lately, learning what he could of plants from anyone who would offer him a sliver of information but he’d begun to discover that his newest interest was childcare. Whenever Gunnar and Taktuq welcomed his presence, he came in to ask questions, and engage with the children- still, for the most part, with their supervision.
He saw Sven tumble down, and rushed forward in concern, only to notice a moment later that the boy laughed. He lunged for a stick, seemingly completely unharmed. Skáld breathed a sigh of relief, and neared with a waving tail.
”Good morning Sven-Sven!” He greeted.
Skald was a frequent visitor to the den of the children. And Sven now recognized that he was a sibling like his litter mates, just older. And when he heard a noise and turned, it was with delight that he ran at his older brother. Though he was all over the place. No straight like for this kid. No sir. All over. Little ears flopping, legs splayed, head to large for shoulders.
SKASKA!
It was with ease he was able to answer his brother in the language of his father. At least the gibberish that was still present. There would be no intelligent conversations yet. But he could make his wants and needs known. And he enjoyed babbling at those he loved in icelandic or english.
Sven was adorable. He swaggered and staggered, a pleasant and happy child with a seemingly unending sense of humour. His babbles were completely too foolish for Skáld to understand, but he encouraged it nonetheless.
”What have you done so far today Sven-Sven? Have you caught the mighty elk?” He asked.
[
Sven tried so hard to talk, but he just couldn't make his tongue work right. It was frustrating. But also most of the adults could figure it out.
He nodded. And stomped his feet. Bibibi elele. Fas!
He made sure to greet his brother with slimy puppy kisses. So happy to see him.
Skáld listened intently, and tilted and flicked his ears at every sound and nuance. ”Wow! You really did that?” He asked, as though Sven had told him some heroic tale.
He dropped to the ground to welcome the toddler to sprawl across his forelimbs where he too could be covered in kisses and nuzzles. ”My brother, the mighty hunter!” He laughed joyfully.
Sven's little chest puffed out and he giggled as he looked adoringly up at Skald. Ya!!
Sven didn't waste time he soon found a perch right on the forelegs of his brother. The force of his giggles at each whiskery whisper kiss moving his pudgy baby body. His tail wagging like crazy.
He seemed to like the vote of confidence. And while Skáld was a gentle creature and saw the value in wolves who were quiet, meek and mild-mannered, he would naturally support his brother’s ambitions even if they strayed far from Skáld’s realm of interests.
Sven seemed to be an adventurer, though, so perhaps that might be something to curb with time, if necessary. He did not want his siblings to leave as soon as they were able to, like everyone else.
”Some day, the mighty Sven-Sven will grow to be so big, he will cast a shadow over the mountains,” He said. ”He will leave pawprints the size of lakes and with a swish of his tail he will cast a wind that will make the trees bow.”
Sven would grow quieter with time, maybe.at the moment he thought everyone could understand him if he was just louder. Not fully realizing it was his absolute lack of vocabulary thus far.
Sven giggled and churred at his big brother.Skaska! Shasha? MO? LALA? Win?
He wasn't sure ehat all those words were but it sounded fun. Only if Skald joined him though. He didn't want to go without him.
He genuinely did not understand what the boy was saying, but he recognized Sven’s nickname for him, and given the fact he’d grown up around wolves who spoke a different language than him, he knew tone and inflection. Sven could have been speaking English, baby babble or any other language- but Skáld could tell he was enthusiastic about something.
”Yes! Sven-Sven, tell me more?” He encouraged.
Sven's language was a mix if both. As he hadn't yet learned to separate the two. But he would with time.
Sven giggled and jumped at his brothers paws. pway! Svasva? Pwe Skaska?
He jumped again little tail wagging. Though hia paws caused him to sleep a little and a ear still floppy at the tip covered an eye.
”Play?” He asked with a dramatic tilt of his head. ”Sven-Sven wants to play with Skaska?”He enticed, tail waving. The boy batted at his paws and he did his best to play keepaway for a moment before he hopped backwards to take both paws away with a laugh.
”Let’s play! Come get me!” He cheered, bounding sideways so he could keep a careful eye on where Sven was- not wanting to outrun him immediately.
Sven yowled and pranced and snapped at his brother's nose. YA!
He balanced back and danced on his back legs, paws in the air. Almost falling head over backwards, but managed to keep on his feet. Though he swiftly hit the ground.
Sven raced after his brother. Skald always seemed to be just a little in front of him. He growled anew and tried again. Happy little yips and barks coloring the air.
Skáld bounded away, more sideways than anything so he could see his little brother coming toward him. He twirled and pivoted, doing his best to seem a quick target without covering very much ground at all. Being a brother put springs in his heels, and made him feel youthful and playful, and he dropped down into a playbow to entice his brother to try and pounce him, giving him a lower, smaller target to reach for.
Sven tried to follow, but he couldn't quite. He tripped a little over his paws. But what he lacked in skill he made up in exuberance. So excited he couldn't quite contain himself.
Sven mimicked the play bow though he went too low his butt to high so he fell on his nise at first, but he dusted himself off and pounced.
Though suddenly little eyes got wide. Ohoh gitta pee!
The boy was clumsy but to be fair, he hadn't been given standard adult-wolf proportions as a child. As a puppy, some parts like his paws were oversized, and other parts too short, too small, and yet too weak to have the strength needed for proper balance. He laughed softly as his little brother tumbled one end over the other, and paused when a shocked expression came to his face.
"Is OK- you can go, maybe-" He said, looking for a place where the grass was already lightly burnt, a sign that it was a frequented toilet-spot. "There?" He suggested.
A dance, wiggle in his butt as he looked for a place to relieve himself. He couldn't quite breathe. Then Skald gave him an answer and he raced off. A deep little sigh leaving him as he first went and then a toss of back paws and he raced back out.
OOH I be good now. Still play?
He looked at him with wide little eyes. Hopeful and happy. It was always the best day when Skald played with them. Though honestly he just liked being with his big brother in whatever he was doing. There was a calming presence to Skald, much like their father and he adored it.
Skáld chuckled as Sven raced off to relieve himself in the direction he'd pointed. That way, at least, there'd be less chance he'd urinate on a plant that might be medicinal, that would then shrivel and turn brown. He waited patiently, and when the boy returned, he dropped into a playbow and yipped, enticing the boy to come after him again.
Skáld tossed a glance over his shoulder as he bounded backwards, inviting Sven along with a high, waving tail- hoping they could play a game of chase!
Sven had tried not to pee on any of brothers herbs and flowers. And he thought he'd done well or hoped.
Oh a game of chase.
Sven hit his elbows though he almost bounced hia nose but then he got his feet under him and yapped at Skald and jumped boldly forward. Little teeth snapping and paws swiping.
While he fumbled a bit at first (and who could blame him- nature had an odd way of helping children develop by giving them the most ungainly structure to contend with) Sven bounded toward him, sweeping at Skáld's paws with little swipes that caused him to practically dance in order to avoid him and get tripped up. His laughter rang out as he did his best to merely side-step away, clumsily entering into a game of chase that was also part whack-a-mole with his feet!
It was such fun to play with Skald. And he managedcto catch a time or two. But the chase was the fun part.
Finally he fell to the ground in a heap with happy smiles, but heaving sides.
I nap?
The earliest days in childhood were ones to be treasured. Not yet fouled with grief or concern, he would enjoy the day spent with Sven-Sven, and remember it always as a time without pain. He began to realize his potential within the pack, and that it blossomed with the company of children.
”We nap,” He chuckled breathlessly. He curled up alongside Sven once he had caught his breath, and thumped his tail so that the boy might rest against him (his silken curls did make for an excellent pillow) so that they could nap together after their playtime.