Wolf RPG

Though only a handful of days old, little Whittier had grown into quite the lumpy potato.  Though perhaps not the biggest of the four Frostfur babies, he was certainly the chubbiest, likely due to the fact that he rarely stopped feasting upon his mom's delicious booby fluids.  He was getting much better at holding it all in now, as well as knowing when he needed to stop.  He wasn't always so good at not ignoring the fact that he needed to stop, however, which is what had landed him in his current predicament.

Were he playing a game of Skyrim, the map would have been rather stalwart in its insistence that little Whit was over-encumbered.  As he unlatched from Bazi's nip, he made to move closer to his mother's elbow as he liked to snuggle there with his nose smushed just beneath her arm against her armpit.  When he began to crawl, it was in slow motion.  Even his arms seemed to be weighed down by his breakfast as they shuffled slowly across the ground.  He'd made it about five and a half inches towards his destination before giving up and rolling against his mother's belly with a belch that was followed quickly by a purr of contentment.  Maybe he'd just rest here for a few minutes before taking up the journey again...

Perhaps the quietest and most content of the four, it was a rare thing for the bi-toned puppy to make any form of noise. It unnerved her father so much that at times, he would press his cold nose to her neck, nudging her until she would make a small wail of discomfort -- as if he were afraid she had stopped breathing during his watch.

Allure, with dried milk caked on to her lips, was nestled against the softness of her mother's warm belly, dreaming of indulging in even more milk when something rolled up in front of her. Unbeknownst to the half asleep girl, Whittier had not-so-delicately shoved his bum in an alarming position in front of her face. and in her sleep, her tiny gums would find his tail, where she would then begin to suckle -- as if she could entice milk out of this appendage.

Growing up with three rambunctious brothers, Allure would need to quickly learn her defenses.. and gain some ploys of her own.

Being newborns, there were a great many unusual things that the baby Scimbazis had done to eachother in their efforts to explore the world around them - or rather, to determine where they could get more food. Though it had happened to him a number of times before, Whittier squeaked in surprise when he felt his sister's gums wrap around his tail.

Though he had been intent upon taking a well-deserved nap after eating his dinner like a champ, he was intrigued by this new scenario that had arisen. He wriggled his butt plaintively as Allure suckled greedily upon his tail, very slowly curling up his body so that he could poke his nose at her cheek with a series of squeaky grunts.

Her onslaught was met with Whit’s own form of defense. Like a fish caught with a lure, Allure followed the tail up as the boy maneuvered his rump, and soon a nose pressed into her cheek with a certain level of discomfort, stirring a grunt from the black and white princess.

Tactics were changed then – the tail was relinquished to the sudden victor, and now her harmless jaws tried to latch on to the wet nose – finding the taste to be rather displeasing. Her own pudgy paws swung up then, pressing to her brother’s belly as she continued her attack, a low squeak escaping her jaws then in between suckles.

Whichever lump this was, it was a very stubborn one. Whit wriggled his rump as he twisted to poke at his sister, curious to find that instead of staying still, she moved right along with him. Like a little ying-yang, the siblings curled around each other - Allure's black against his pale tawny. Being completely unaware of the cool symbol they were mimicking though, Whit wasted no time breaking away.

He felt the jaws relinquish their hold on his tail, but before he could be relieved from that, he grunted as the very same jaws clamped down upon his muzzle. Lifting a front paw, he began to bat at the offender's face. With Allure kicking at his stomach and one paw busy with the attack instead of helping him retain his balance, he fell to the side after a moment, giving his sister the upper hand. Whittier was not so easily deterred though; he continued to shove the pink pads of his paw against her cheek and began to kick back at her kicking legs, starting a harmless game of footsy.

A woosh of air escaped her as Whittier’s paws found her gut when he fell – only hard by simple physics.. and the fact she was a pudgeball. Grunting and stumbling down fully, Allure face-planted without hesitant, her nose plunking in to the cold ground and bringing stars to her eyes.

She took a moment then – feeling he brother’s paws thrum against her face like she was a guitar before another breath of air escaped her, awkwardly trying to roll back closer to him. She did not know the word stubborn, but it would become clear that when it came to her siblings, she would very much be stubborn.

After getting more comfortable, her tiny jaws opened to try to suck on his back paw then – the one he kept insisting on shoving at her face.

OMG whicherever lump this was, it would just not STOP. Whit gave a disgruntled squawk as she continued to smash against him in spite of his kicks which were meant to send her rolling away. The largest of the Frostfurs was quite the stubborn little man himself, however he was not the most.. physically fit, and so after only a few moments, he found himself slowing out of mere weariness.

Eventually, his kicking came to a stop as the hefty boy resolved himself to accepting his fate as his sister's chew toy. Whit held his paws steady as she suckled upon them, doing little more than wriggling his toes upon her tongue as a method of coping with the bizarre feeling. Since fighting back physically apparently wasn't going to help him, Whit laid his head back and began to whine. It was quiet at first, but then grew louder as he picked a few low notes and began to sing them like an elegy, mourning his forsaken toes that he had sacrificed to Allure for the better of the Frostfur clan.

Her chew toy succumbed to near wiggles – his toes rolling on her tongue in a rather odd vibration. Had she understood more of his defeat as his cry began to echo across the walls, she either would have felt terrible, or even satisfied at her win – but instead, her attention span would drift.

She would pause, her mouth holding true over his back paws, shifting her weight as she attempted to become cozier before once more, she continued. When that seemed to lose her interest, she took to gumming at them instead.. and then, finally, releasing them with a slobbery strand of spit before she wiggled closer to her brother, her nose pushing its way in to his belly as she sought his warmth. She was tired.

It seemed to Whit that the torment would not ever end as he continued to sing of his sorrow, but eventually, the attack upon his toes ceased. Happily, he stretched out his little arms and toes in a gratifying stretch. Despite the fact that his sister lump was an aggravating little attacker, Whit was happy to wrap his arms around her as she snuggled close. It had been a brutal battle, but the little boy was more than happy to wrap it up with some snuggles and cuddles.

Whit’s stretch seemed to shake her body – and yet the moment he relaxed, she did too, with her nose buried in to his chest. A yawn escaped her – her tongue curling out to touch her nose before she fully stilled. Dreams were quick to come – warmth surrounded her, and with big brother Whit to keep the nightmares away, all was well within the little girl’s world.