Wolf RPG

@Raissa but anyone else in the family can jump in if they like

In ways it was a lot cooler than he could have imagined.

With a small squeal of discontent, Mason Virtue Silvertip shifted his small legs. He was smaller than he should have been, but he had been the biggest of those held within that tight caress of womb, and now it served him well. Once matted with blood, his downy fur had been beautifully washed by a loving pink tongue. He had basked in that first touch - rough and firm, but at the same time it infused love deeply into his tiny body. Through the mottled colours of his feather-soft fur, adoration spread from this being he knew so well, until it settled inside him. This mother was his. Since he had been a part of her, he had felt it down into his very core; she was his.  The womb had been warm, but he had found that emerging into the world was much more exciting than he thought it would be. Fresh air fluttered against his fur, brushing it this way and that in a way he couldn't control. It was exhilirating and scary at the same time. He had never thought that it would be like this, outside of his safe and warm cocoon.

It was a lot bigger than he had thought it would be.

For a few moments he could feel nothing but cool air around his body. It scared him: had he emerged too early, too impatient? Hardly able to move, he still managed a small push with hind legs against the dry earth of their den. His body moved a bare centimetre with an effort that exhausted him. Exultant despite the fatigue, he felt warmth. Mama. A shudder of happiness spread through his minute body. "Meeeew." He squeaked, his small breath whispering against the soft fur of her belly. Mason was hoping against hope that she could understand the sentiment. Of course, he couldn't hear his own tiny voice reverberating in the darkness, but he could feel the echo of its truth in his soul.

But it was a lot warmer than he could have hoped for.

FitzDutiful watched his son as he squished deeper into Raissa's belly. He felt proud to have sired two beautiful children - even if they had lost many more. He felt stirrings of something. Something he wasn't supposed to feel, he was sure. As he watched the little squeaky one try and clamber closer to Raissa he felt jealousy. Jealousy that they would choose her than him. Reaching out, he carefully hooked little Mason and slid his tiny squeaking body over to where his father lay.


He knew it was stupid. There was no way these little tiny creature who couldn't see or hear would have a preference. The only thing they knew was food or no food and no matter how much he may want to, FitzDutiful could never provide that element. Not yet, not until they were weaned. He covered Mason carefully with one paw so he was surrounded by paws on each side. A little bean inside a cocoon.

He didn't say a word, he just watched his little mottled prince through the gap that his paws left.

All that effort to get one step closer to his mother was quashed by his father in one quick scoop. As he rolled gently into place before the patriarch of the mountain, Mason let out an indignant squeak. It was stopped short when he felt fur tickling his face. The closeness he felt was the same as it was with his mother, but this touch felt more rugged and masculine.  This was the type of someone that, over the coming months, Mason would strive to become.
 
Every little boy wanted to be like their father, didn't they?
 
Scritchy scratchy pads wrapped walls around him, and Mason felt a sudden safeness, being cocooned like this. It seemed that his first few hours of living had encompassed a multitude of feelings, and this was not any different.  A flood of excitement and love washed through him, a tidal wave which threatened to engulf his tiny mind completely. His tiny nose quivered, pressing to the left and the right, feeling his way along the walls of leather, and the white fur which grew between the pads.
 
Suddenly his tiny nose found the entrance that his father was peeking at him through. Mason cooed with delight as he shuffled forward a bare millimetre and extended his neck, until the very tip of that same nose was resting just outside of the cocoon. Pleased with himself, Mason watched his father unseeingly, listened deafly, and generally exuded cuteness as he tilted his head towards the breath he could feel from his Papa's muzzle.

Raissa had been asleep, her pups curled up in the curve of her stomach when a tiny mew broke through her sleep barrier and she woke. She looked down to see June still fast asleep beside her, but little Mason had squirmed away. She watched with a loving warm gaze as Fitz pulled him close to him, wrapping his paws around him. She could tell he would be a good father and she was happy to have him as her mate.

Completely oblivious to the fact that his reason of cuddling Mason was jealousy, she rested her head on her paws and watch Mason move around in his fathers paws, pointing his tiny muzzle up to him. She didn't say anything, she was just enjoying the sleepy moment, it signaling to her that the future would be nothing less then she expected.

FitzDutiful wasn't aware that Raissa was watching him. He had his attention solely focused on Mason. His heart was feeling like it would burst from his chest as he looked down at his son whom he had yet to award a personality trait to. He wondered what would suit him. Casting his mind back he thought over everything that had occurred since he had known of this little boy's existence. The boy and his sister. The two of them.

"Virtue." he said softly, letting his voice echo around the boy knowing that he couldn't hear but not caring. It was a miracle he existing and he wanted this son, this little price of the mountain, to become virtuous. As for his sister. "Virtue and Humility" he said. It seemed to describe her aptly enough with her lack of attention seeking behaviour.

He felt saddened that these wouldn't be the babies first names. It would have meant everything to him to allow them to carry on the tradition of his forefathers. His step mother had taken on a personality trait when she had joined the pack but he had never asked Raissa to do the same. Maybe, depending on how things went, on if he could forgive her, he would.

<3

Peering up at his father did not take long to ache his weak neck. He mewled pitifully, playing up to the attention he knew he was getting with a certain relish. There was definitely something particularly thrilling about being the centre of attention.

His tiny tail wagged about like a windmill, whipping the pads of FitzDutiful's paws, as he felt hot breath tremble the air around him. His pink tongue popped from his mouth, tasting the air that contained his new middle name. It tasted good, whatever it was, and he sneezed in approval. This caused him to roll sideways, until he sprawled teetering on the edge of his belly, propped up only by his father's left paw.

Raissa listened contently as Fitz spoke to the tiny pup, letting him now the name he would soon take on. Mason Virtue. It seemed to fit him and a smile lifted Raissa's cheeks when he sneezed seeming to agree on the word. Hopefully he and his sister would grow up strong, ready to take on the traits they were named after. Already Mason seemed proud of his name, even though he couldn't hear it.

She watched them for a bit more before closing her eyes once again, pulling June close to her and falling back into a peaceful slumber. Being a mother was tiring. 

His little boy sneezed and caused him to roll towards FitzDutiful's left paw. Realising that his baby might need to sleep - and the sneeze might represent cold - he pulled him closer. About the same time he did this, Raissa pulled June close. The movement made him look up and at her, causing him to realise they (Fitz and Mason) weren't alone.

Sighing at the injustice of life, and yet smiling with the pleasure that his children brought him, FitzDutiful also curled protectively around his baby boy and drifted into a restful sleep. He was finding having young pups caused his usually uninterrupted sleep to become a case of sleep when and where he could.

As he rolled against his father's paw, Mason took note of the leathery texture that pressed against his cheek. It didn't take long for the owner of said paw to remove it. Mason let out a small whine but the barest of seconds later warmth returned in droves - his father had wrapped his entire body around Mason's little frame. This was much better than paws cupping him.

Contented, the young boy slept, blissful and at peace against his father's beating heart.

As Raissa drifted off, she thought about all the things that had happened in the past months. Some were good, but others were so bad they made her cringe. Right at the moment the good seemed to outweigh the bad, but only time would tell how everything would turn out. Hopefully it would be for the better, but now matter what happened to her, all she really wanted was the perfect life for her pups. She would do anything for that, no matter how it affected her.