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+--- Thread: Sun Mote Copse Don't tell me what the poets are doin' (/showthread.php?tid=40166)
Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 16, 2020
Things were going well thus far, despite the fact that she did still feel that Nellie was distancing herself. Bronco, on the other hand, had picked up his duties in the time being, and had brought her breakfast for the third day in a row. He wasn't being overly affectionate, and often simply left the rabbit near the den's entrance before returning to his patrol, which he naturally took fairly seriously. She wolfed it down, of course, but it didn't stop her from continuing to search for food. When she tracked down and felled another rabbit, she thought beyond her own needs and carried it with her to Towhee's log-den.
She woofed a hello to her friend, and offered her the rabbit before she flopped down, her belly toward her friend, so that little @Meerkat would still be surrounded by a corral of warmth while her mother ate.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 16, 2020
When a shadow fell over the den's mouth, a rumble began in Meerkat's tiny chest. She scooted toward the shifting shape of it even as the scent of meat made her pause, little nose twitching with interest. A face appeared, haloed by daylight, and the pup let out a whimper as she craned her neck, head wobbling, tongue poking out as if in concentration. She gazed up at Niamh, tail jerking left and right with the entire effort.
-"Say, 'hi, Neema,'"- Towhee said and signed somewhere slightly above and behind the pup, right before the Regent accepted the proffered rabbit and scooted even further backward to give Meerkat and Niamh space while she fed. From her current position, the tot didn't see the motion of her mother's forelegs, though her right ear twitched, picking up the sound of her voice. The reception was bad, a bit like an AM radio station on very low volume, but some part of her registered it nonetheless.
She was too young to obey the command literally, though Meerkat continued to wiggle and wobble toward her other mother, blinking and burbling adorably.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 17, 2020
Niamh squirmed happily as her new nickname was used, and though she knew it would be a little while yet before the kid could understand or mimic what Towhee was saying, Niamh knew that repetition was key. So while Towhee ate, and Meerkat toddled toward her, Niamh bowed down to eye the youngster from her level. -Neema- Niamh signed. Though she expected the majority of the family's children to have no difficulty hearing, she felt it was important for them to be able to effectively communicate using ptero, and it would likely be easiest for them to learn in an immersive environment, paired with the spoken language.
Meerkat was small- but growing. She was smaller than Niamh's kids had been, but the circumstances were different, and puppies came in all shapes and sizes. She had a pale, beige tint to her pelt that made Niamh beam with pride; maybe she'd develop a golden blonde tint, just like her Neema. -Hey pretty baby!- She signed to the little one, laying her muzzle down on the ground so her face would be as close as possible to the puppy- even though she was fully aware that doing this often enticed sneezes, burps, and pukes all too close to her face. But she'd been a Mom before- she knew it was all a part of the process, and it didn't stop her from wanting to get as close to the pup as possible. She thumped her tail against the ground, sending little wafts of air that ruffled the pup's light fur. -Come to Neema- She encouraged.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 18, 2020
Niamh bridged the gap by resting her head at Meerkat's level. The pup cooed her approval, bumping her much tinier nose to her Neema's. She instinctively opened her mouth a moment later, gumming at the adult's fleshy lip, though she let go with a little shudder when a whisker poked her, reeling backward and scrunching her face at the strangely unpleasant sensation.
When it faded, she blinked owlishly and then latched on again, this time her toothless maw angling toward the cleft right beneath her Neema's wet, leathery nose. There were short bristles here too, though they were soft and ticklish to the touch. Meerkat enjoyed this sensation so much she pressed in closer, mashing her cheek against the velveteen feel of it.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 18, 2020
"Oops!" Niamh blurted, surprised when Meerkat suddenly recoiled, having been prickled by one of her whiskers. She chuckled softly as the child recovered from the sensation and pressed up against the soft spot just below her nose, and she reveled in the fresh, baby-scent that made her instincts flutter, like a murmuration of sparrows lifting from the trees. She gently moved her muzzle from side to side when the puppy placed her cheek against her lips, and rumbled a soft, friendly greeting, allowing her warm breath to fan over the child's body.
She moved her muzzle up over Meerkat's short, rounded temple and down her shoulders, trailing along her spine, and then repeated the motion, reveling in the softness of the child's fur without pressing down too hard. She chuckled softly, nosing her lips against she child's side, where she blew air through her relaxed, but softly closed lips, effectively blowing a warm, wet raspberry against the kid's side for fun.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 23, 2020
Meerkat happily lost herself in the variety of sensations, enjoying them all immensely. There was one in particular that stood out more than the others, even the deeply pleasant stroking of her back. Every now and again, a puff of warm air washed over her, which she liked for its own sake. But what was most compelling was the smell of it. There was the scent of blood, meat and other organic odors, of course, though there was so much more to it than that. Although the baby was too young to process any of it consciously, she detected bits and bobs of information encoded in the smells, telling her of her Neema's age, sex and current condition.
There was no possible way for Meerkat to grasp the concept of pregnancy, nor make sense of the new life growing invisibly in Niamh's belly even now. But some base, instinctual part of her brain registered this fact, a signature coded into her Neema's scent. Unaware of why, exactly, she was doing it, Meerkat mewled in joyful approval, as if gladdened by this news and excited at the prospect of potential playmates.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 25, 2020
Kitten-like, Meerkat cozied herself into Niamh's embrace and seemed to enjoy her affectionate, gentle touches, which pleased Niamh to no end. She wanted the little girl to look up to Niamh as a female role model, a second mother. And she would make a presence in the young girl's life a great deal, over the first few weeks of her life, stopping by Towhee's den-log every day, often times with something for Towhee to eat. Bronco had, after all, been consistently dropping breakfast off for her, so she felt it would be a kindness to share that meal with her friend who needed the nutrition still even if her pregnancy was over. Recovery would take time, Niamh knew.
She beamed and rubbed her nose back and forth across Meerkat's back. "You're just the sweetest, loveliest, cuuutest little Meerkat ever, aren't you? An' Neema is gonna spoile you rotten," She said pleasantly, in as much of a sing-song voice as a tone-deaf wolf could.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 30, 2020
Her sense of smell resumed a backseat position as Niamh stroked her back and sang to her. The puppy cocked her head, favoring her right ear: the only one that could hear anything at present (and, as time would tell, ever). Her Neema's voice sounded muffled despite the proximity, though Meerkat nonetheless enjoyed it immensely. The combination of sound and touch soothed her effectively, causing her to grow still. It made her feel safe, even a little sleepy, yet the pup refused to succumb to a nap just now.
Instead, she rolled over onto her back, paws batting gently at her Neema's face as she wordlessly begged for a belly rub next.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 30, 2020
The tilt, which Niamh interpreted only as being cute, rather than an indication that she favoured the one side, caused Niamh to shimmy her shoulders, grin, and utter a small, soft squeal. "Ugh, you're just so cute!" She crooned, and as soon as she was prompted, she tipped her muzzle down to nuzzle the girl's belly, rubbing the tip of her nose gently against her underside and doing her best to slick back her own whiskers so as not to tickle the child. Niamh loathed being tickled, so more often than not, she avoided doing the same to kids. Raspberries, though, she had a-plenty, so she blew another one against Meerkat's pale underside, causing the fur and puppy fat to ripple gently from the buzzing air she blew against it.
She kept her muzzle close to the little one, and smoothed the fur she'd just slobbered on with warm caresses of her tongue. She couldn't get enough of puppy smell, that triggered something her brain that made her just want to nuzzle and kiss the baby all day. Niamh wasn't much of a singer- and was fairly tone-deaf, but she hummed tunelessly at the child, nonetheless, as she bathed her.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 30, 2020
Her Neema quickly indulged her unspoken request. The contact did tickle, a little, though this only earned a cooing giggle from the baby before she settled beneath the touch. Her right ear twitched as it picked up on the distant hum, which she could also feel via the Honoree's tongue. It was altogether quite pleasant and, despite herself, the pup found herself fighting to keep her eyes open.
They'd just drifted shut, the baby falling into a blissful drowse, when her whole body jolted. Meerkat's eyes flew wide open again, just before a second hiccup shuddered through her.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - March 30, 2020
Niamh knew how pups worked. They would run and be silly and playful- and then they would crash. The older they got, the less they needed to nap after playing, and the longer their playing spurts would become until they were basically, fully operational. For now, it was nice to enjoy the moment in between the two, watching Meerkat's eyes grow soft under drooping eyelids. She simply smiled, and continued to bathe the little girl, pausing and chuckling when she hiccoughed. "Bless you," She said softly, even though it wasn't necessarily what one generally said after someone else hiccoughed.
She moved slightly, so that she could cradle the infant between her forelegs, to keep her warm and comfortable should she dose off again, and in the meantime, continued to gently caress Meerkat and hum tunelessly, so that she might drift off into a peaceful slumber.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - Meerkat - March 31, 2020
She stared up at her Neema, wide-eyed for several seconds, before a giggle burst from her lips. It was interrupted by a third hiccup, which made the baby laugh even harder. A few more jiggled her in the following moments, though they soon subsided, as did her cherubic tittering. Meerkat smacked her lips then, utterly content, and dropped off to sleep.
Nearby, Towhee did the same (smacked her lips contently), then scooted nearer to Niamh and the baby in her arms. She would reclaim her soon enough, though for a few moments, she let her chin rest on her forelegs as she simply gazed at the pretty picture Meerkat and her Neema made.
RE: Don't tell me what the poets are doin' - RIP Niamh - April 01, 2020
Baby laughter was contagious, so Niamh chuckled when Meerkat did, smiling to hersrlf as Towhee moved closer. She yawned, not having a warm, happy child propped between her front legs, and her best friend by her side. She'd surrender the child to her mother, of course, when the two drifted closer to sleep themselves, but for a few moments, she held Meerkat close, as her breaths became soft and regular, and she fell into a deep sleep from which the gentle transition between adults wouldn't awaken her. Content to stay, and have a nap beside her friend as sort of a preview of what the world would be over the coming months, Niamh tucked herself against Towhee's side, and set her head down on her forelegs while the three of them slipped into a comfortable, cozy nap.