Wolf RPG

It was late; there was a calm in the air as heat from the day slowly sapped across the beach, and the waves were a distant, yet constant, presence. The den was warm and cozy, wherever it was—and the darkness thick with more than shade but also a heady humidity that could only be described as claustrophobic.
The caribou-boy had discovered the peaceful nature of the dark already. He was aware of the bodies pressed all around him—a brother, a sister, a mother, perhaps his father too; but there was no real telling their bodies apart in the dark, with his limitations—and try as he might to rouse someone with a kick or a nibble, he could not.
Those paws which had been crossed beneath his full belly now braced against the earth, and he rose from it in the manner of a homunculus built of fresh clay: not quite ready for firing, and so soft he might lose cohesion at the slightest touch. No doubt about it, as within moments of rising Salaksartok felt the world sway; he tipped one way, then the other as he naturally overcompensated, and again, in a fine display of sea-legs; but this was no ship, and the world did not shudder beneath him as he imagined.
A reaching leg—his sister's, not that he'd know it, nor would she likely remember—crossed his path and bumped his chest, and with a squeal Salaksartok shoved his open mouth at it, his milk-teeth bared in a primal display, although the movement missed its mark completely—and now close-lined, Salaksartok bowled forwards over Nasamiituq and towards the den mouth.
Outside was a whispering darkness—and even as Salaksartok's nose grazed the open air, he felt briefly calmed, deep in his spirit.

Each day Ipiktok’s world expanded. At first, he only knew his mother’s breast. Then, the touch of brother, sister, and father. The smell of his family and the salt air. One day, the rough shape of the den’s carved wall came into view. The next, the sound of gulls from the outside.

As his senses evolved, so did he – from a small fingerling potato to a large russet (and just as ovular and golden brown). He would crawl and motor about as his dexterity grew. Soon, he would be walking.

Ipiktok noticed things too. Tonight, there was commotion. His large head peeped his brother’s silhouette against the den’s moonlit mouth. That was new… neither of them had ventured so far before. Curious, the boy waddled towards Salaksartok to investigate.

Massaraq felt restless in Moontide. The sea had appealed to him, seemingly endless in depth and breadth, whispering secrets on the sea breeze that he could not decipher yet yearned to have whistling in his ears. And yet the territory felt filled with ghosts he had no faces for. Samani. He had not forgotten the sound of their song, and though he did not fear his sister nor fear for her with his anaa there to guide her he still felt something empty and melancholy in his stomach.

So he pressed further than borders and found himself breathing in the darkness instead of sleeping. At the sight of two smaller, even than him, and younger figures he quickened his steps. Letting out a bark to tell them he was near he remembered the adult's warning of the tides. He was growing into his full size but they had said swimming in the lake was not like the ocean water. "Hi!" He called out, not urgent yet but a bark in the night nonetheless, wishing to garner their attention before pelting them with questions.

There was a single breath of serenity before the stillness became too much (although what constituted too much was hard to describe; too much whispering of the water maybe, or too much graylight, or emptiness just out of reach). When he perceived a presence from behind himself, Salaksartok immediately bristled and turned his attention within the den rather than without.
His initial response was to bare his puppy teeth and make a little, RRRrrr-rrr! What would he be met with? His mother roused by his wandering, seeking only to curtail his exploration? A sibling or two readying an attack from behind? Or only more shadows and sea?
It was his doe-brother! The liminal space that was the den was bright enough to recognize that much. Salaksartok had decided that he would be the first to venture out and seek adventure, not Ipiktok, and so with an arching puffed tail, he took a bold step in reverse so that his bottom was crossing that invisible line that delineated one space from the other: and the stranger outside, unseen for now, would be met with the plump rear-end.
The rest of him? He tried to make himself look big, and menacing, and truthfully felt as though he filled the void of the den mouth with his largesse (which was not true in the slightest). And when the visitor from the outside-world called out with a bark, the tension that Salaksartok had been tightly gripping within his body gave way to a small (however exceptionally odious) — pooot!

Salsaksartok’s growl and puffed-up furs did little to dissuade his unflappable brother from following. After all, it was just Salaksartok being Salaksartok!

So when his dump truck reversed right into Ipiktok’s face, you can bet he got a nose full of fetid milk-gas.

“Ughhh!” Ipiktok, stiff -legged, went down like a fainting goat.

Massaraq slowed as he approached, not wishing to intrude upon a den but curious all the same. His pace halted for a moment at the growl and display of the pup. His lips twitched - after all he knew that he must have been similar when he was small and already that time felt so far away when in truth it had been mere months in difference. When the other pup fell over he took another tentative step forward. "Are you okay?" His eyes peered over but it seemed as if no massive harm had been done.

Crouching down to be less intimidating and closer to eye level he spoke deliberately, voice bright, speaking simply. "Errr I'm a friend, from nearby." He was not sure if these wolves were Moontide's neighbors or even if they counted among that broad category of family but at the very least it was true he meant them no harm so friend would have to do for now.

When his sibling went down, Salaksartok did not know what to do! It was not a good time for a nap. There was a stranger here, and as they came closer and even began to talk at the two children, Sal spun and began barking (or the closest thing to that, which might've been more like a pig-squeal with gnashing baby teeth).

He was bouncing up and down, and sometimes backwards, with the force of his hiccough-like vocalizations. Whatever this big beastie was, it wasn't going to get Ipiktok!

A few moments passed before Ipiktok came to, roused by his brother’s ferocious and incessant yapping.

In the young pup’s mind, Salaksartok’s fierce display had struck terror into the heart of the stranger. Now he was outside the den, lying down!

Ipiktok waddled up to Massaraq and attempted to crawl on his face to claim dominance over him.

Massaraq was not quite sure what to do with the outpouring of energy but the other pup at least seemed less fearful of his presence now and come out to walk all over his face. He bore it with indulgent grace, letting out a faint smile as the pup clambered over his snout. A low wide wag of his tail spread out behind him.

When a paw came close to his eye he gave a flinch and slight shake of his head, not able to stay completely still any longer.

Ipiktok felt mighty thanks to Massaraq’s patience. With a budding confidence that rivaled Jack the giant slayer, the young lad crawled all over their intruder. He was knocked down only when the older fellow flinched, but Ipiktok didn’t stay down for long.

Loving this game, he dipped into a play bow and growled a happy woof!