Sun Mote Copse there are otters in his eyes

He cooed merrily when his mother mouthed him, lifting him from her belly to the spot between her outstretched forelegs. Skipjack snuggled against her chest as her tongue pressed against him, over and over again. Although there was affection in every pass, there was purpose too. This was a bath!

Face freshly scrubbed, the little boy was placed back beside his mother’s flank. Too invigorated to eat or sleep, Skipjack’s tiny lips formed an “o” as he rumbled at no one and nothing in particular. His little tail wriggled and he bobbed his head around the den, dimly registering the various blobs now that his eyelids had parted ever so slightly.

One dark shape was nearer than the others, not that the Bairn possessed much in the way of depth perception. But when he let a second “awoo,” he thrust out a stubby foreleg and found the familiar, wrinkly softness of his sister. Skipjack tugged himself nearer to her, until he could see nothing else but the blurry brown of @Otter’s pelt.

I’m gonna timestamp this for March 12. Anyone’s welcome! :)

Unlike Skipjack, who'd opened his eyes for the first time, Otter was still in the dark. Her time would come soon, but she remained in the sightless state she'd known since birth.

When Skipjack scooched his stubby leg on her, Otter swung her head about blindly, trying to figure out what'd poked her. Soon enough, the mystery was solved: it was her brother. His scent flooded her limited smelling abilities, and she could feel him against her; she was instantly calmed and reached for him. With her mouth open and gums exposed, Otter reached for Skipjack and tried to grab at whatever she could to greet him. Although they'd only been apart for a few minutes, it'd felt like centuries to her and her inability to grasp the concept of time.

There was nothing familiar about the inchoate form he beheld, though he recognized Otter’s touch and knew her smell as intimately as any other. Skipjack whimpered happily as they came together, two tiny heads bobbling on a collision course. It was a soft impact, though, Otter’s gums jamming harmlessly against her brother’s brow.

It tickled! He jerked his head to the side and began to scoot past her, wee nose skimming along her flank in unwitting retaliation. Some instinct told him to stop at her hindquarters and push himself upright. Only his anterior half cooperated, resulting in a wobbly variation of Upward Dog, his blue eyes now blinking in the general direction of The Taigh’s ceiling as his left elbow jabbed Otter’s ribs.

When Skipjack went high, Otter stayed low. Her instinct was persuasive, assuring her to keep low as her brother declared the pecking order; already, she was showing her easy-going and docile nature. She remained under him, her tail slowly wagging until he jabbed her ribs with his elbow.

She shrieked, clearly displeased with the turn of events, and she scrambled under him as she attempted to seek the comfort of their mother.

It felt good to stretch his body in this new way, working muscles for the very first time. Skipjack burbled happily, holding the position as long as he could, which wasn’t very long at all. He relaxed all at once, meaning to sploot back on the den’s floor but sprawling on top of his sister instead.

The tiny, soft flaps of his ears fluttered. The little boy’s ears hadn’t properly opened, though he registered Otter’s shrieks dimly. Skipjack attempted to squirm off her, tumbling to one side and rolling partway onto his back. He blinked slowly, once more finding himself staring blearily at the ceiling of The Taigh.

Skipjack was quick to scramble off Otter, and she felt pleased once the weight of her brother was off of her. She cooed happily, squirmed in the opposite direction towards their mother's abdomen, and began to eat once she snuffed out a teat.

Something blocked what little vision he possessed. Skipjack kicked out a paw, his toes pushing at his mother’s lip as the familiar pressure of her mouth closed over him. He was soon tucked closer to her again, right side up, beside Otter. She’d latched onto one of their mother’s teats, though he was too much of a busybody to eat right now.

He pressed his face right up to Otter’s as she nursed, admiring the blur of her brown cheek. His nose pressed against it, his tongue darting out to place a sweet little kiss there. His forelegs stretched toward her, batting gently at her head and shoulders before he settled into kneading her little rolls of puppy fat.

She ate until her brother was beside her and stole her attention; she'd eaten her fill and was ready to play. While he kneaded her like dough, she blindly swung her head in his direction and leaned until their foreheads touched. Then, without much thought, she began to kiss his face and cover him in her saliva. Her tiny tail wagged back and forth, and she smiled; she loved her brother more than anything.

The rhythmic motion soothed him into a stupor. Perhaps now he was ready to feed, then take a good, long nap. He began to turn his head to root among the soft, sparse fur of Meerkat’s belly.

He felt Otter move with him and, before he knew it, she was slobbering all over his face. At first, he was indignant! He’d already had his bath! But her tongue was far smaller than their mother’s. It was kind of ticklish, though mostly it made him feel loved… and even more relaxed.

Skip gave Otter’s button nose a gummy nip when he was done being smothered in kisses, then completed his earlier turn. His own nose pressed into their mother’s belly. Before he began his search, he started to knead her flesh just like he’d done with his sister moments ago.

Skipjack's boundary-setting was quickly honored by Otter, who pulled away as soon as she felt his gums on her nose. Her nose scrunched as she jerked her head back, and when that didn't work, she drew a chubby forearm across her snout to wipe away the residue of his saliva.

When satisfied with the spit removal, she realized how quickly she'd tired herself out and decided it was a good time for a nap. Her jaws parted into a yawn, and the tiny girl wriggled to push herself up against her mother and curled into a tiny ball. Within moments, snores could be heard coming from her.

Thank you for the adorable thread.

Soon enough, he found his favorite nubbin—the very same one he always picked, much to his mother’s dismay—and latched. He pulled sweet, warm milk into his mouth as his body slowly relaxed. Skipjack was asleep within minutes, still giving his token teat a tug every moment or two until he eventually slipped off, head coming to rest on the slow rise and fall of Otter’s back.