Wolf RPG

Peregrine woke to find Wildfire pressed up against his belly, searching for a teat. The father chuckled, sitting up and closing his mouth around her tiny midriff. She squeaked (of course) but quickly fell silent when he placed her beside her mother and she found a nip to grab. The other three were already cuddled up against Fox, who appeared to be sound asleep. He smiled at his drowsy family, then grunted as he rose onto all fours.

Stepping out of the den, he trotted down to the lake for a long drink, then made a beeline to the nearest cache to fetch some relatively fresh meat. He carried it back to the den, then made himself comfortable in the doorway. He gnawed at his breakfast, all the while keeping his jade eyes on the wriggly, whimpering puppies. A few of them seemed to react to the smell of blood, though of course it would be a few weeks before they'd get their first taste.

He finished off his meal and scooted a bit closer to mother and pups. It was mid-morning and Peregrine expected the usual influx of visitors to start soon. He was happy to steal these quiet moments alone with his little family, though he was starting to feel less uptight about allowing other pack mates to come around. He was still protective of the tiny newborns, yet he was happy to show them off too. He found himself hoping Osprey in particular would drop by today. The pups were a few days old now and she would have to head home soon, so he wanted her to meet them before she left.

A careful observer might notice a disturbance in the snow as the weasel burrowed and tunneled through the powder, following trace scents of blood and meat. On occasion he would pop up to the surface, head sticking out of the snow like a sneaky jack in the box. His white fur was the perfect concealment, but it was broken by the sheer blackness of his nose and eyes.

On one of his "surface peeks" the weasel spied what was to him a cavern, the scent of the trail he had been following flowing from it in stronger wafts but now mixed with other scents as well. Recklessly curious, he emerged from the snow entirely, perching upon his surface like a leaf, barely sinking in. Twitch bounded to the den, hugging the corner of the entrance with his slinky body. Stretching to his limits, he peered in... was there food down there?

Wild shapes and textures swam through her consciousness as she dreamed; there were flashes of bright, vivid colors, followed by slower shadows and finally, darkness. She slept soundly, quiet and still, for an unknown amount of time...until Wildfire woke her up. It was always Wildfire. This time, she was awakened by the gentle jostling of her father placing Wildfire beside her. The fire-coated sister must have wandered away from the little jumble of bodies that lay, nestled and kneading, by Fox's side.

A tiny squeak escaped her toothless maw as a big yawn came over her. Lifting her head, she sniffed blindly around before beginning to pull herself along the floor, scooting on her belly (since it was easier than trying to stand on her weak, wobbly legs). Without realizing it, she was moving toward her father.

Of course, with Wildfire in the mix, these moments were never actually quiet. When his ginger child began to cry out for the umpteenth time, Peregrine focused on getting her to settle down and go to sleep. Although she was a royal pain in the ass when she was awake, she was an excellent sleeper. While he focused on soothing her with licks and nuzzles, Raven came awake beside her with a big yawn that made Peregrine pause and smile.

"Why can't you be more like your sister?" he said to Wildfire. He didn't make a habit out of talking to the deaf pups, yet it was a particularly pertinent question. He then resumed running his tongue along Wildfire's back, as it seemed to be having the desired effect: her wails were subsiding and she was growing still. Meanwhile, Raven seemed to have drawn on her sibling's fading energy and was now on the move.

Suddenly, the black hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Peregrine whipped around to face the den's mouth, sensing danger. When he saw the weasel's head popping into the den, he snarled savagely and whirled like a rattlesnake, snapping at the tiny intruder. Small as it was, it could pose a real threat to his pups. The Alpha male veritably roared as he made to chase it from the den or, better yet, crush its fool head with his teeth.

Peregrine was right to be defensive. If given the chance, the weasel most certainly would have made off with one of his pups, dragging it from the warmth of its den to some secure location where he would have made a meal of it. Weasels were notorious for raiding the nest, anything from mice to rabbits to eggs and yes, even a wolf cub left unguarded.

But unfortunately for Twitch, ferocious Papa Peregrine was not about to let one of his pups become a meal. Before the weasel even had a chance to lick his chops he was faced with the black fury barreling down on him with a fear-inspiring roar. With a shriek Twitch spun and fled, leaving behind a terribly foul odor, a hopeful deterrent that the beast might not follow him. It was nowhere near the potency of his fellow mustelid the skunk but he could hardly contain it when he heard the snap of the wolf's teeth so close to his retreating tail.

Twitch frantically bounded through the snow, daring not even so much as a glance backwards as he leaped as far up the trunk of the nearest tree as he could, digging his claws deep and scrabbling up and out of harm's way. His little heart drummed in a rapid cadence, his beady eyes bulged.

Boy did he ever stick his head down the wrong hole.

Peregrine's sooty daughter was wholly unaware of what had just transpired, only that suddenly she was surrounded by strange and interesting vibrations all around her -- in the ground beneath her paws, in the air around her. Her father's bone-chilling snarl, inaudible to her yet-undeveloped ears, came to her as a slap of sound waves on her face and she whined uncertainly, fumbling blindly about in confusion. Some deep, subconscious instinct was nudging at her, and a tingling, nebulous sense of danger made her tiny heart race with raw, unrefined fear.

The protective father was not satisfied with merely chasing the weasel out of the den's mouth. He charged out of the small burrow, black fur bristling and fangs bared. He gave chase as the weasel bounded across the snowy earth and eventually scrambled up the nearest tree. Peregrine ground to a halt and glared upward, growling loudly and tail lashing. He then made a point to urinate against the tree and then trotted back toward his family's home, hiking a leg against the doorway too as a clear warning to the rodent.

Peregrine ducked back inside to find the youngest pup unknowingly facing the doorway. She seemed bewildered. He smiled as he gently lowered himself in front of her. He licked the baby's face, then plucked her up by her scruff and plopped her in between his broad forepaws. Showering his children with affection was wonderful just for the sake of it, though there was another purpose too: he washed her face, cleaned her ears and made sure the rest of her was warm, dry and comfortable.

Now safe on his tree branch, the impudent weasel glared back at the black wolf who had chased him from a potential meal, even daring to stick his tongue out. When the wolf cocked a leg and soaked his tree in a linquid insult Twitch hissed and stamped his feet... but there was nothing he could about it. Weasels had a reputation for being aggressive and Twitch was no different, if he had to defend himself with force he would have, but his fleetness had saved him that time. Some wolves were prime targets for mischief but this one? Most decidedly not. To trifle with him was to flirt with death.

With a frustrated huff Twitch cautiously climbed back down the tree, his eyes glued on the entrance of the den and his legs ready to spring him to safety again if the beast came back out. But there was no sign of him. Without a sound the weasel jumped into the snow and bounded away.

He would have to find something to eat somewhere else.

Osprey had taken her time to have a rest, unwilling to leave the comfortable spot her brother had offered to her that soon. She also had heard that the puppies had been born a few days later, but, since the nausea had not loosened it's grasp on her completely, she had decided that it was better for her to stay away from the parents and their newborns, until she got better. Inbetween small meals and attempts to keep it down, she had time to think about the promised blessings and, what would her tasks as a fairy godmother were going to be. From what she knew already - there were going to be a lot of aunts and uncles for the kids in the caldera, but she wanted to be someone special.

It was a fine day, when she finally woke up to find herself all well again. No vomiting, no headaches, no sudden weaknesses. She was alright. This also meant two things - it was her time to leave and that she had to meet the kids before that. If she slipped away without a word, Peregrine would never forgive her. Neither would she. Finding the right place was not a hard task, since many footprints - both fresh and old - led in that direction. Osprey grew even more confindent, when she caught scent of Peregrine having been there almost a moment ago. She drew close to the den mouth and leaned her head down so that she could have a look inside.

The tiny black puppy drowsed contently between his paws as Peregrine groomed her. He became quite caught up in this task, so that when he glanced up to find a pair of eyes peeking in at them, he started. Peregrine's lips began to wrinkle back to expose his fangs when recognition registered. His lips still peeled back, only in a smile rather than a snarl. Unlike the little weasel, Osprey was a welcome guest at the den.

"Come see the fruits of my loins," he joked, keeping his voice low. He knew the pups couldn't hear him but the vibration in his chest could easily disturb the baby in his arms, not to mention Fox. She was still sound asleep at the back of the den, the other three pups suckling quietly. "Well, one at least," he quipped with a gentle smile. "She doesn't have a name yet but this is our youngest," he introduced the dark furball snoozing against his chest.

"You have always had a way of choosing words, but - congratulations!" Osprey rolled her eyes and smiled at her brother fondly. Then she lied down to be in the same eye-level with Peregrine and regarded the little black bundle of fluff and flesh with a curious gaze. The tiny thing didn't remind a wolf at all and no matter, how many times she had seen newborn puppies, it was always hard to believe that one day they would grow up to be just like their parents and packmates.

"And how many do you have in total?" she asked, looking over Perry's shoulder, where she assumed Fox lied with the rest of them, but because of darkness being unable to see them properly, let alone count.

"Four," he reported, sounding every bit the proud papa. "I named my two. They're called Nightjar and Wildfire Attica," Peregrine said, meeting Osprey's eyes and knowing he wouldn't have to explain the middle name; she would realize he was honoring their (most likely late) brother. "Our firstborn, a boy, has cream fur, so he'll probably end up with a name like... Snowbunny or something," he quipped.

"Wanna hold her?" he offered in the next moment, gesturing to the sleepy black puppy. He halfway expected her to decline, so he added conversationally, "How're you feeling? How's that lil' den working out for you?"

Four. Perry and Fox had done a good job together. And when you counted the children of the previous season, her brother was a father of eight kids in total. Compared to her zero in this aspect, this was an impressive number and she had no doubt that, if fate would have it, in few years he would become a well respected and loved patriarch of a very large family. It made her also realize that time waited for no one, she would be five next year and, if she had not settled down by now, it didn't seem likely that she would ever do that.

Snowbunny. Osprey lifted her eyebrows - really? She was aware of Fox's customs of naming children after, what they reminded the most, but anyone having a name "bunny" would endure a lifelong teasing about the name. She hoped that both parents were sensible enough not to do anything like that to their kids. "I don't want to wake her," she declined his offer politely, looking at the soundly sleeping kid. "I imagine that you don't get much rest now, do you?" In regards to his other question: "I am well, thank you. And I do wish that I could take that den with me to the plateau, because ever since my last one collapsed, I have been the tough girl and sleeping out in the open. You know, how hard it is to find a den in winter..."

"It is a little harder to come by," Peregrine acknowledged, "especially because Wildfire tends to scream her fool head off when she's awake. But she's a great sleeper, as you can tell, so I guess that makes up for it, sorta..." He trailed off uncertainly, then chuckled. "This isn't my first rodeo, so I feel pretty well equipped to handle it. And I do my best to make sure Fox wants for nothing."

He was glad to hear that Osprey had enjoyed her cozy little home away from home. "Consider it yours, whenever you need to get away from the plateau. I'll even name it." Peregrine paused, thinking. "Osprey's Closet. I'll make sure everyone knows it's on reserve." The Alpha male chuckled, which caused his little girl to squirm and moan in her sleep. He licked her head and she settled.

"I never use a den, except when the little ones are, well, little. As soon as they're two months or so, we'll move 'em to a rendezvous site and be done with this cramped little space... 'til next year, I guess." It occurred to him right then that he and Fox could theoretically already look forward to their next litter, yet it seemed so ludicrous right now. So he pushed that thought aside. "Don't you like slumbering under the stars, Oss?" he continued, voice teasing.

"Osprey's Closet..." she repeated, trying to decide, whether she liked the name or not. It was not bad, but... "Except then there will be people, who will want to dig up skeletons," she pointed out to a well-known expression. "Maybe Osprey's nest would be better?" she suggested, even though she would not mind, if Peregrine wanted to stick with the first choice. This was his home - after all - and he could name places and spots, whatever he wanted.

"Yeah... so much for joy of stars, when you are freezing to the bones and have to constantly wake up at the slightest sound for the fear of being attacked and eaten by someone," she muttered, however, loud enough for her brother to hear. Late spring, summer and early autumn were different things entirely - it was warm and comfortable. Yet a den - an enclosed and dark space, offering both protection and hiding spot - was the one that meant some sort of safety. Say, if a bear decided to prowl around and feast on wolves, it would have a lot more effort in fishing out a wolf from a hole in the ground than picking it up from a wide open space.

"But - of course - being out in the open has it's merits. I survived the winter, this means that I am a tough girl!" she said with a hint of pride in her voice.

Osprey pointed out a possible problem with the name, then suggested an alternative. "That's so predictable!" Peregrine protested, though he laughed. "What about Osprey's Aerie instead? It has alliteration... or assonance... or something going on."

"You were born tough, Oss. Do you really worry about someone coming along and eating you when you sleep out in the open? Do you think having walls around you will stop if someone truly thinks you'll be tasty?" he teased. "I get you on the freezing part, though... it is nice having a fur pile. Is there anyone you could live with? Like move into their den with them? Maybe Saena?" he proposed, once more displaying his absolute naïveté about the women's relationship.

"Nah, I don't think it would work either. Someone would think that, whoever owns the spot, is eerie," Osprey tossed Peregrine's suggestion back at him. Not that she did not like it, but for the sake of having a little verbal spar. Then an idea occurred to her and her face lit up the same moment the metaphorical lightbulb appeared above her head. "I know! Let's have - Osprey's cool and magical portal of good sleep," as if this was not the most random idea that she had come up with today.

"Probably not," she had to admit - her brother got a valid point there. If someone would decide to eat her it would happen regardless of whether she was in the den or out in the open. That's how life went in the wilds - even predators had no way of knowing, whose dinner they would become at the end of the day. "Saena - let me put it like this - we get along better, if we keep a polite distance," their last meeting hadn't gone that bad, but the relationship between the two was still rocky and unstable. For some reason Osprey had a feeling that she would unintentionally find a way to mess it up again. "But - it isn't that cold anymore. It can get only warmer, therefore "the den problem" is not that acute at the moment."

"That's it," Peregrine replied to her off-the-wall suggestion. "That's it right there. That's what it's called." He grinned lopsidedly, appreciating the fact that the two of them still got on like little kids even though their fourth birthday was just weeks away. Peregrine doubted either he or Osprey would ever grow old, mentally.

He didn't reply right away when Osprey mentioned the nature of her relationship with Saena, though his brow furrowed slightly. Maybe their personalities were too similar? Or the age difference was an issue? Peregrine hated to think it but maybe Osprey's relationship to him was a problem for Saena. He was afraid to ask.

"You know what else is a cute at the moment?" Peregrine asked rhetorically. "This little blob of tar." He rocked the nameless pup, causing her to twitch faintly and stretch out a leg. He lowered his muzzle to place a tiny kiss on her paw pad. "I really --"

His voice cut off when a loud cry from the den's rear caused him to jerk his head to look over his shoulder. It was Wildfire, fussing like usual. Peregrine exchanged a quick glance with his sister, asking her to wait, then plucked up the snoozing cub at his feet. He gently tucked her beside the still slumbering Nightjar (and sleepy eyed Fox, who'd been roused by their daughter's cries), then grasped the squirming Wildfire around her middle and carried her toward the entrance.

He settled down with her and began to lick her, focusing on her face. His tongue did a good job of muffling her cries. He chuckled under his breath and paused just long enough to say, "Osprey, meet Wildfire, our resident howler monkey."

Had Osprey known that Peregrine considered himself somehow responsible for the fact that she and Saena didn't get along, she would have felt a bit disappointed and sad. Now that almost a year had passed, since Perry and Fox had found a new home, the previous arguments and disagreements seemed small and insignificant. The strained relationship between her and her niece had many reasons and one of them could be put like this - Osprey was not, what the young delta expected her to be and vice versa. Each of them believed that their "truth" was the right one. Maybe over time they would both grow up a little and learn to like each other. Or maybe not.

The role of a father fitted Peregrine perfectly and naturally - when he reached down to plant a kiss on the ittle princess's head, Osprey thought that she had not seen anything so adorable and endearing as this. Then, as if someone had decided that it was too quiet around the den, there was a loud cry that made Osprey jump in her spot. After giving her a quick glance, Peregrine tucked the nameless pup with the rest of the kids and picked up the tiny wolf, who had such a mighty voice. "Howler monkey, eh?" Osprey leaned close so that she could have a good look at the puppy and sniff it too. "I daresay that one day she will give banshees run for the money," if you took that the volume of the voice would grow together with the kid.

Carrying on a conversation did not compute with continuously licking his daughter's face, so he ceased and desisted on the latter, bracing himself for the onslaught of screeches that would soon erupt from her little muzzle. "You have no idea," he said to his sister, ears slicking backward and pinning to the sides of his head, "but you're about to find out how right you are."

As if on cue, the puppy's mouth opened wide and she unleashed an earsplitting scream. At the same time, she lifted her forepaws toward her face and began scrubbing at it, perhaps in response to the dampness left there by her father's tongue. She also peed on him a little, which Peregrine quickly cleaned before resuming soothing (slash muffling) her with gentle sweeps of his tongue. An apologetic glance was sent in Osprey's direction.

Osprey had to admit that this kid really had a voice. If she was so loud and keen on expressing her opinion about things this early, just wait, what would happen, when she learned to walk and talk. This made her glad that she was not the immediate parent, but an aunt that would have to join in only occasionally. Even then with all the merits of letting the kid do stuff that the parents had forbidden it. She didn't mind that Peregrine had to interrupt their conversation in order to calm down the restless child.

"By the way... about those blessings do you want to have them now or later, when the little ones have grown up a little and you have an idea, which direction each of them is steering?" fairy godmothers were flexible like that.

When Osprey mentioned blessings, Peregrine was tempted to say, "Bless my child into silence!" Instead, he said, "Why not give them a little one now, then another, more meaningful one when they're older and able to understand better?" Wildfire cut into his words with a particularly high-pitched scream that actually hurt his ear. Thoughtlessly, he grabbed her by the muzzle, forcing her mouth shut. He didn't use much force, though he still felt bad about his knee jerk reaction and let go almost immediately.

"She can be a handful," he explained sheepishly to the child's aunt, "and an earful. I promise that the next time you pay a visit, they will all be awake and better behaved." He wished Wildfire wasn't being such a difficult little brat because he knew Osprey would likely be leaving directly and he didn't want a screaming child to interrupt their last conversation before she went. Nor did he want to just chuck her at Fox and leave. Peregrine sighed.

"Let me think about it," Osprey decided to use the time, which Peregrine spent comforting Wildfire, to think, what kind of blessing she could give to the new generation. His approach was very reasonable - you couldn't tell much about, what would become of a kid as young as it was now. What if she wished him or her the wrong thing? Tell a creative soul to become a good warrior? An expert hunter to know the ways of stars? Besides she would have an excuse to come and stop by again. 

It was not an easy task, because the kids had so much already - loving and doting parents, watchful pack members, who would make sure that they would all be safe. What could you wish for those, who had it all? Then again there were those little simple things that worked for everyone. After all you could plant a seed, but you could not tell it, how to grow. It would do it on it's own. "Well... then... for now I wish you all luck in those first steps in life. May it never leave your side," because a little bit of luck was something everyone needed.

He could barely hear his sister's voice over the child's continued wails. He felt himself flush with agitated heat, though he knew better than to take it out on Wildfire (again). With another sigh, he used a broad black paw to gingerly push the puppy into the crook of his arm, where she might feel safe and comfortable. He then shifted so that she was partially blocked from view. It also muted her cries a little, though just barely.

"Thanks for the blessing, fairy godmother," he said, his smile only a little strained. "We will need a lot of luck to raise up four pups. On that note, can you believe I have eight kids? When did that happen?" he joked. When they'd lived together in Flightless Falcons, he had never given much thought to leadership, mate-ship or parenthood. And now here he was, a king building up quite a legacy.

"Well, in that case you deserve a medal for a job well done," Osprey said him with a teasing glint dancing in her eyes. "But you will have to work extra hard to match our parent's record - I don't even know, how many of us they had in the end," at this moment she wondered, if her mom herself knew the exact count of her kids, let alone all of them by name. She wouldn't be too surprised, if she did not, but then again with her encyclopedic knowledge about birds... who knew... maybe she had the Big Book of Redleaf-DiSarinno brood tucked somewhere in her mind.

"But yeah... just think, how things change. One moment you are like this," she pointed out to the Wildfire, who was still crying, "tiny and toothless, weeks later you make your first steps out of the den, go through the moody and emotional teenage years and suddenly you are all grown up and have first grey hair around your muzzle and head," and after she had said that, she realized, how funny it applied to her. There was a slight chance of her either growing old differently (turning white, for example) or not having any visible signs of age at all. A beauty forever. Both ideas were tempting.