Wolf RPG

When he first hit the floor and his little womb apartment was taken away from him, Nightjar's fur was dark, almost black, with dampness. Over the next four hours, most of that, along with the blood that was left behind on his face, tail and legs, was cleaned away by the tender tongue of one of his parents. Drier now, he sported an array of brown, black, and white streaks arranged into a mottled mess upon his thin-furred back.

He perfectly resembled his namesake. If someone stuck wings and a beak on him, the large pup could probably pass for one of those birds.

Thankfully, his parents weren't conducting these sorts of experiments on him just yet, and he was contentedly laying alongside Wildfire and Fox's thigh. His awareness was still incredibly dim; he could feel others touching him, but for all intents and purposes, could not separate them. Fox, Wildfire, Peregrine, Derp and Raven all comprised a single entity in Nightjar's mushy mind, a massive milk-making machine that insisted on probing him in all his uncomfortable spots whenever he so much as shit. His instincts were much stronger than his brain at this point, to the point where he loved this intrusive entity more than anything in the world, even if its constant disruptions should bother him.

She had waited anxiously nearby for the greater part of the day, listening to the commotion, watching the dark form of Peregrine— she could only see his tail outside of the den, thumping in presumed joy— through the trees. Even when Dove had appeared, the yearling was too distracted to engage with any unpleasantness. Fox was one of the few friends she had in the caldera, and was family, too. If the Alpha pair needed anything, Magpie wanted to be the first to go to their aid; even if the aid she could give was limited due to her injuries.

When the hulking male finally left his den, leaving his mate and children inside, Magpie approached— in her jaws was a tender rabbit, given to her by Somnia. It would be a few days before the yearling could hunt even small game without assistance, and though the Gamma had intended for Magpie to eat it, the yearling knew she couldn't approach Fox without some sort of gift.

She paused far outside the den's entrance, whining around the kill in her jaws— Am I allowed?

Peregrine had left, promising not to be any longer than he absolutely needed to be. Fox understood, kissed him goodbye, and went back to tending to the children. She had no plans to leave them anytime soon unless she absolutely needed to make a quick trip outside to pee or poo. The return of footsteps sounded far sooner than she had expected, and Fox tilted her head curiously. A cursory sniff gave her the information that explained it. It wasn't Perry at all, but Magpie.

“Magpie?” she asked softly, though she didn't move from her spot. There was no need to rustle the pups (both sleeping and awake). “Perry will be back soon, but you can take a peek before he returns if you want to see 'em.” Fox couldn't imagine Perry being exactly thrilled about having others around (and really, neither was Fox), but if Magpie wanted to take a quick look, she wasn't going to decline that unspoken request.

Now that the turmoil of birthing was more or less over, Nightjar was capable of noticing other things around him. He had no thoughts about them or about anything at all, but he could feel breath ruffling his short hair or the way that walking shook the floor. These events were disruptive in a different way and Nightjar almost always reacted negatively to them.

This was one such occasion. With his hindquarters stuffed in close to his mother's side, the slightest rumble from her was enough to shake him to his core. As she spoke, although he couldn't hear it, Nightjar squirmed uncomfortably. When his body didn't stop vibrating, he cried out loudly and stamped (read: barely brushed) the floor with one of his forepaws.

She felt relief at Fox's voice, glad that her sister had evidently made it through the ordeal without incident. Magpie placed the rabbit on the ground, just outside the den's opening— she didn't really know much about birthing or pups at all, and wasn't sure what the smell of prey might do to them. Would they get confused and start tearing Fox apart with their tiny teeth? She shuttered at the thought. "It's me," she clarified after the meat no longer hung from her jaws. "I brought you some food. And— and I'm glad you're okay," the yearling continued awkwardly. She didn't realize how nervous she had actually been.

At the fiery woman's invitation, the yearling tentatively approached, poking her head in only as far as needed to see. It smelled disgusting in there, and it looked like four giant, wiggling, screaming rat turds were connected to her sister. Magpie swallowed hard, wincing at the sharp little cries, attempting to keep her composure. After a beat, she joked, "I think you're missing a few." Hadn't her sister said that she'd be having four dozen kids?

It was true that the den smelled of piss, shit, and afterbirth... but Fox barely noticed. She had been too busy cleaning up various excrements to think too much about how they smelled. Besides, it wasn't like Fox was innocent of rolling in things much more foul than this in the past. When Magpie mentioned that she was missing a few [pups], Fox frantically touched each of them on their soft, fluffy backs. One, two, three, four. Yep, all were there, safe and sound.

“They're all here,” Fox clarified. “Is your head still hurting you?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. Maybe Magpie was still some kind of confused. Fox didn't want her ending up like Haunter or Atticus. Doing her best to push that thought out of her head, Fox tended to the brown and black pup by licking his face and nuzzling him.

It turned out that, although little babies didn't have teeth at all, Magpie's silent thoughts were about as true as they could be. Although the gift was placed beyond the den's entrance and very far beyond Nightjar's comprehension, it was still within his range of scent, particularly because that was the only sense he really had. His nose was no longer clogged with amniotic fluid, so it was pretty easy to pick up that tantalizing smell, which immediately triggered something instinctive.

His cries stopped as soon as Fox began tending him, but the end of his complaint only prompted him to action. He wiggled around and sought out a teat as his tummy rumbled. When he found one, he went to town on it with a new brand of vigour, mostly due to the ancient, ingrained knowledge of prey scent in his thoughtless little brain that triggered a strong positive (for him, not for his poor mother) reaction. In fact, soon Nightjar was mashing his gums against his mother's tit with excitement, and his tail was wriggling wildly behind him.

Magpie's ears went down in guilt at her sister's brief panic, feeling hot— she shook her head, "No.. well, I mean... yeah, it still hurts, but I thought you were supposed to have a dozen." She shifted awkwardly as Fox began to groom one of the squirming creatures. "I was kidding..." the yearling mumbled awkwardly, suddenly aware that this probably wasn't the time to kid around about missing kids.

Her green eyes widened as the small creature moved from Fox's cleaning tongue, attaching itself to one of her boobs and... wigging out completely. Magpie's brows furrowed then, wondering if that was normal— but while pups were constant amongst the Corvidae, she had never been this up close and personal with one so young.

"Oh," Fox replied, then added a polite chuckle. Fox often worried that something would happen to her first batch of kiddos, and little scares like that didn't do anything to help that. Nevertheless, she couldn't rightly blame Magpie for cracking a joke, considering how Fox probably would have done the same thing if she'd been in her sister's shoes.

Presently, Nightjar was attacking her nipple, and Fox winced. "Gettin’ a little rough there, aren’t we buddy?" she said, nudging him. She wasn't entirely sure what caused them to be like that on occasion, but it was rather annoying. Fox nudged him, though not enough to detach him from his suckling. Turning her attention back to Magpie, she asked, "How are you settling in? Making any friends?" Did Magpie ever make friends? Fox could only recall acquaintances and enemies, but perhaps she just hadn't seen the more friendly side of Pie.

The entity pushed him, but it wasn't enough to deter Nightjar from suckling. He did calm down a little, though, and was gentler, but not because he understood the purpose of the nudge. Rather, his tummy was becoming distended with milk and he was slowing down as a result of being both full and sleepy. As the adults talked over his head, Nightjar slumped to the floor and whined softly until sleep took over.

"I'm slowly getting to know the rest of the pack," she deflected, watching with a mixture of concern and awe as the little brown creature seemed to inflate and then just... stop moving all together. If not for the clear rise and fall of it's tiny size (and an equally tiny snore), Magpie might have thought him dead. It certainly looked like he was in a coma that couldn't be disturbed.

Before their conversation could continue, Peregrine returned, shoving roughly past her to curl up near Fox. She wanted to say, I would have moved, you ass, but she knew better by now— and the dark look in his eyes removed any subtle attitude she might have given in response. Magpie sensed her older sister was beginning to tire, anyway, and she dismissed herself— with a thanks for allowing her to visit, and the promise that she was available to puppy-sit whenever Fox and Peregrine were ready.