Wolf RPG

Full Version: oh where, oh where can my baby be.
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C'mere fambly! :D

What. The. CRAP.

Little Whit had no idea why or how, but suddenly and quite rudely, his entire world was destroyed. He'd just woken up from a nice long nap, tucked snugly between his siblings and his mama's belly. It was a favorite position of his, to not only always be close to his most prized possessions (those beautiful rows of milk duds on his most favorite squishy wall), but to also be perfectly placed so that any other potato that tried to suckle had to get past him first. Not that he wanted to stop them, but that he wanted to be awoken as quickly as he could from his naps so that he could get back to the neverending feast!

But then it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong. Whit was indeed awakened, but instead of by his siblings trying to bulldoze over him for a meal, by his meal up and disappearing! Urgently, the pup searched the area near his head with a gaping mouth, desperate to find his beloved teats. What he found instead was his sister's butt, which he suckled greedily upon for about ten seconds before he realized that it was completely and horrifyingly useless. Jerking away, the chubby boy began to squall in misery, his little limbs waggling about against his brothers and the father that was attempting to shift himself into place to watch over his brood while their mother went to relieve herself.
Bazi and her tortured nipples exited the den at speed - without regret or an apology to her mate as the mewling pups began to wriggle at his feet. She needed to pee, eat, and exercise - all of which was going to take at least an hour to accomplish. @Scimitar would have to fend for himself for a while.
He did not stay within the den often these days -- he was far too afraid he'd roll over and squash one of their ever so tiny puppies.. but it was not uncommon for the father to be right outside the entrance.. at times, even allowing himself to sleep with part of him inside.

However exhausted he was with the drastic change in their life, it was nothing compared to Bazi, who was the primary caretaker of the four pups. He doted upon her when she allowed him, but there were times when she needed to escape and stretch her legs.. and now would be such a time.

This day had found him within the den, fussing over the pups. When Bazi extracted herself and left without word, he spoke nothing, allowing his eyes to cast back at her form as she disappeared in to the light of day.. leaving him with four potentially hungry and squirming puppies. Trying to maneuver them together (easier to keep eye on them), Scimitar could only sit back and pray nothing terrible would happen until their more responsible and knowledgeable parent had returned.
While Whit's siblings seemed content to shuffle obediently back into place to continue their naps, the chubby Frostfur was not so easily appeased. He felt himself being nudged along, and while he allowed it, he continued to squawk as loud as his tiny little lungs could manage. When screeching yielded him nothing, the pale newborn quieted somewhat and turned his still sniffling nose to the nearest lump of sibling, which happened to be Swift. With a grunt and a whimper, he opened his jaws wide and glomped his gums down onto the boy's rump.

Whit began to suckle fiercely on his brother's behind then, causing the even paler Frostfur to respond with his trademark rrrrrrr. Nonplussed, Whit continued his attack - that is until he was rolled away with a particularly fierce butt-bump. Immediately, Whit began to cry again, even louder than before. Now on his back, he flailed his arms and began pounding them against the nearest thing to him, which just so happened to be his papa's belly.
Of all of them, Whittier proved to be the one with boundless energy. Scimitar took note of this with an overwhelming sense of pride and dread, knowing that come time when they could walk.. it would be this boy and his brother Swift that would give the two Frostfur regals a run for their money.

The boys wails could be heard, and the Alpha winced slightly, wondering if one of the Peak members was about to come barging in and wondering what he was doing to his kids -- what other conclusion would they come to?

"Whit," he rumbled, partly amused, but mostly fatigued. Crooning quietly, the large male bent his muzzle down, smoothing his tongue along the boy's exposed belly, hoping to soothe him before nudging him once more to his stomach.
Whittier continued to sob noisily, heedless of his father's paranoia that the rest of the pack would hear and judge him for how he tormented his babies. He quieted only when he felt Scimitar's rough tongue slip across his belly. Though he was aware of very little going on around him, he did notice that there was a difference between this tongue and the other one that was often exploring his pudgy rolls. It was slightly rougher, and the breath that washed over him was a different flavor than the one that came with Bazi's tongue.

Curious, Whit arched his neck to sniff at Scimitar's muzzle as it moved around him, his bottom jaw dangling open while his own pink tongue waggled about. Lifting his forearms, he reached out and pressed both of his paws suddenly on the tip of his father's nose, squeaking the moment he felt the cold and wet upon his tender pink pads.
Are you trying to kill me with cute, Stevie?!

His son quieted as Scimitar's ministrations began. Curiosity seemed to overcome him, and the tiny boy became aware that this was no longer Bazi at his side.. and while it was distressing to know he was not a prominent figure in the baby's life just yet.. it was exhilarating to see how such a tiny, blind and deaf creature could work through this puzzle with such bravery.

Two tiny paws pushed against his nose, and Scimitar chuffed in return, feeling a grin form upon his creamy muzzle. This life had been created by he and Bazi -- and all four of them were perfect. The surge of love that swept over him in that very moment for his family was unlike anything he had ever experienced.. and gently pushing his nose forward, he made to tickle Whit's belly with his giant nose.
UH, IS THAT A PROBLEM??

Whit sat still with his tiny paws upon his father's nose for a good five or six seconds before he decided he wanted to eat it. No sooner had he opened his mouth to glomp his toothless jaws down upon it than Scimitar moved and began to tickle his pudgy tummy. It was a strange feeling, but not totally different from others he had felt. Squeaking, he wriggled against Scimitar's snout, kicking his feet harmlessly on either side of his muzzle, flopping his papa's lips against his teeth with his back paws.
He relented after a few moments, stilling his nose as it remained pressed in to the boys tummy, feeling his paws strum his lips like they were a guitar. Pulling back, he watched his son, noting how quiet he was in comparison to Swift. They would only remain this small for a stolen amount of time, and Scimitar was certain that each time he closed his eyes, he would re-open them and they had grown almost an inch overnight.
 
Sweeping a paw out, the cinnamon wolf pulled the boy closer to him and in to his chest, holding Whittier before he nestled his own muzzle down to rest upon the cool ground of the den. Perhaps, he could entice the boy to a nap.
Whit continued to flail for a moment or two after Scimitar withdrew.  Eventually he quieted after he realized that whatever that thing had been was no longer where it had been.  It was quite a bummer actually for he had been enjoying himself.  But with fun came weariness, which was tenfold for an infant.  Whit didn't make a peep as he was swept towards his father's chest for some manly father/son cuddles, and he was out like a light only seconds after squirming about to make himself comfortable in his papa's arms.

last post for me! <3
Whit settled in his arms -- the sudden quiet that fell upon them was like a blanket of comfort, and Scimitar released a soft sigh. One ear flickered to the den entrance, hearing shuffling outside. No doubt Bazi or a pack mate -- but he did not pull away from this moment, and instead, the cinnamon wolf lowered his own muzzle. Careful to not crush his son, the Alpha allowed his own eyes to flicker shut, and within moments he too joined Whit in the realm of sleep and dreams.. at least until the next pup would stir and force him to wake.. responsibility resuming.