A cautious boy always, prone to sticking with that which was most familiar to him. Yet, despite this, he found his curiosity growing just as he was physically. Each growth spurt brought with it something new, every milestone an interest in something else. When he could, he wandered—oftentimes by himself, ever searching but for what he did not know. But every time his journey took him right back home, just as it did today.

Xiaoqing entered the main den, ready to nap—until he spied his sister within her little den. His ears perked and he tilted his head, looking at her curiously. Softly, he loosed a soft wuff to catch her attention, wondering what she was up to today.

An invitation to play greeted his wuff, which he responded to with a wagging tail. Whilst words lingered on the tip of his tongue—an excessive amount, perhaps—not a single one was to be uttered. Instead, Xiaoqing dropped his frontal half to the ground whilst his hind end swayed from the motion of his eager tail. But then the wagging faltered, slowed and stiffened, the calm before the storm—

—and towards her did the child then pounce, forelimbs stretched out towards her as he sought to make contact. From ear to ear was a smile spread across his maw, soft but excited, anticipating her response.

Contact was made and his sister tumbled, which only made his tail wag faster; to him, her not moving was clearly her choosing to engage in some play. And when she headbutted him back, his tail began to shake his entire back half along with it, excitement unable to be contained. Xiaoqing took it all in stride and was soon batting at her with his paws, much like a cat; at the same time, he tried mouthing at her muzzle, nipping and whining and grumbling all the while.

Against him were her actions, the duo equally giving and taking in their play. Laughter sounded from the child’s maw, high in pitch and clearly enjoyable. And when she reared up against him, pushing the sailor’s body, he went with the flow of things—the boy willingly fell back, waiting to see what next they would play.

There came a batting at his muzzle, the fur of her toes tickling his nose and causing a sneeze. But then came back the grinning, ever eager to play. So when she backed off and bowed again, the boy made a quick scramble back up to his feet—tail wagging and butt wiggling, he clumsily tossed himself towards her.

She fell back and he tumbled along, giggling all the while. Wriggling and squirming, he almost didn’t notice her headbutt—but, when he did, he totally misinterpreted it anyways. Rather than returning the gesture, the boy—under the belief that it was an affectionate tap—nudge his nose towards her cheek. Should she allow it, he’d nuzzle his face right against hers, much like a cat might his master’s ankles.