Blacktail Deer Plateau baby's first everything

For Kat and Perry (who is hanging about as @Osprey Jr.! According to my maths they're about 2 months if 1 human month = 1.5 pup years, so I'm going to see what babies can do at that age. Slight positional power-play.

They were three days old today, and never in the history of weight-gain had the world stood witness to such a percentage increase.

Pura, it turned out, was a champion consumer once latching on had become a doddle and he had worked out how to swallow slightly less air. The farts were still many and putrid, but the frequency with which the cloud was replenished meant that those who were made to suffer the effects - Hawkeye in particular, whose sense of smell was keenest - were surely inoculated by now.

The ever-present milk machine, whose sacrifice and hard work Pura did not yet have the faculties to appreciate, had been relieved of her duties to bathe, stretch, and see a face or two with eyes that could actually open. Other wolves stood guard outside at varying paces between the mouth of the den and the vast, angry wilderness. Peregrine was stationed closest.

The day was mild and the pups were full, huddled in the center of the den like a cluster of mismatched, balled-up socks. Osprey Jr. and Saēna had declare a truce for the moment, allowing her brother a moment's respite from the lady-squabbling he would no doubt spend the rest of his life policing. The 3-day-old pup lay on his back in a rare ray of sunshine that had found its way into their hideaway, probably planning mischief though he had neither words nor images to form a thought. Suddenly, their dark sentry shifted into the path of the sun, and Pura was suddenly colder than he had been. A high-pitched "Ooooo!" and a customary toot signalled the little boy's great distress.

This topic might interest you. :)

With four puppies to feed and nurture, Hawkeye didn't get much time to herself. When she decided to take a break, Peregrine quickly offered to sit the pups while she went out and stretched her legs. He slipped her a nuzzle and a nip to the rump as she trotted away, then swiveled around to stand watch in front of the den. About every minute or so, he peeked inside to smile at the pile of puppies as they slept, yet he did not enter nor disturb them.

At least, he didn't mean to disturb them. Only when Pura's cry pricked his ears did Peregrine realize his shadow had fallen on the bunch, robbing them of the sunshine. "Sorry, little dude," the swarthy Alpha murmured, sidestepping to remove his body from the doorway while keeping his head thrust a few inches inside. His nose wrinkled at the pungent smell. All of the puppies were gassy but, for whatever reason, Pura's were the rankest. They even beat Mo's age-old stink bombs.

Slowly, he dropped to his haunches, sitting just outside the entrance so that he could peer over one shoulder and watch the pups. His eyes continuously returned to Pura, who looked particularly blue in the sunlight. "I don't know what to consider you, kiddo," Peregrine mused aloud. "You're either my great nephew, my nephew-in-law or possibly my foster son. You can just call me your dunk. Get it?" He snickered lightly, his cool jade eyes now wandering from gray to white to black to (slightly darker) gray, loving the entire monochromatic rainbow.

Aha! That is good info. I love the wolf.org chart.

Pura Virtúte's manners did not yet extend to verbal gratitude, but he refrained from soiling himself in Peregrine's presence as thanks - Hawkeye, who bore witness to the pup's less thankful side more often than was fair, would have recognized that as high praise indeed.

Wherever he fit into the family tree, for now, Pura was content just to be - but not 'be asleep', or 'be still', and certainly not 'be-have'. Peregrine's aura differed from his wife's, and it was one that the blue-grey infant had yet to fully immerse himself in. The mission waited for no man - or pup.

He wiggled left, right, then left again, and eventually built up enough momentum to turn onto his belly with a satisfied squawk. The upset made his gut rumble dangerously. Centimeter by centimeter, the blind and deaf little boy commando-crawled towards Dunk Perry, each tiny, scrabbling footfall representing a bigger victory than the last.

The three elder puppies lay relatively motionless, sleeping in the warm sunshine like milk-drunk kittens. Only Pura moved presently, his speed impressive even if his form was lacking. Peregrine's lips twitched upward at the corners as he watched the small boy, admiring his fierce will and his energy. Pura and his sister might have arrived earlier than they were meant and they were both quite tiny, yet they were still robust all the same, Pura especially.

"C'mere," the swarthy Alpha male grunted, ducking into the den and scooping little Pura toward him with a large, black paw. He settled the hoary youngster between his planted forepaws. "You're a star, Pura, and I mean that in the most literal terms; you're a ball made of energy and gas." Peregrine snickered, very lightly and playfully smashing his broad paw against young Pura's small head.

I'm determined to get a minimum ten post baby thread - just to prove to myself that it's possible to be 5 days old (4 in this thread) and still interesting!

It was hard to believe that Pura Virtúte had already survived for four days outside the womb - with an incomprehensible ten days to go until the projected due date. But despite crawling like a boss, he really wasn't that much bigger or stronger than Saēna - nor did he possess the the great reserves of energy his initial burst of enthusiasm would suggest.

It came as a huge relief when the PawMobile™ appeared to give him a lift. Pura stopped struggling and allowed himself to be rolled onto his back between Dunk Perry's huge paws. It was only when something big, furry, and carrying scents from a thousand miles of travel dropped onto his head that the pup came alive again with a squawk of excitement. His sense of smell wasn't good, but at least it existed - as did taste, which took the crown. Pura extended his tiny tongue and flailed about, hoping to make contact with something that wasn't boob, floor, or puppies.

Pura didn't seem bothered when Peregrine softly mashed him to the floor. The pup's nose wiggled and tongue popped out to lap at the sandpapery paw pad on the bottom of the Alpha male's foot. This elicited a quiet bout of snickering from the swarthy dunk. His tail thumped on the floor, unknowingly brushing the three other puppies and quite likely passing on the ticklishness.

"How do you know I haven't stepped in moose shit, Pura Vir-toot?" Peregrine wondered aloud. "Then again, you'd probably like that. I envision you as being the shit-eater of the bunch," he predicted with a low laugh.

He allowed the small boy to lick and nibble for a few minutes longer, then slowly withdrew his paw. Before Pura could express any disappointment over his toy being removed, Peregrine brought his paw back into the picture. This time, he nudged it against the pudgy puppy's middle, gently flipping him over onto his back.

"Piss on me and die," he threatened playfully, leaning slightly out of the crosshairs just in case.

If he wished to contain Pura Virtúte's various gifts, Dunky Perry was not doing himself any favours by rolling the little pup about. There was nothing violent about the movement, but it caused gases to shift and pop like a secret, dangerous lock.

Kisu's boy whined in discomfort, but his focus was torn between dealing with situation that was unfolding or focusing on the word of interesting things that Peregrine held between his toes. After a day of pootling about, they smelled strongly of 'activity' - a mixture of earth, blood, poop, and the occasional whiff of crushed plant-life.

But the paw was on his belly now, and suddenly, Pura felt nature rumble dangerously within him. His little face scrunched into even more of a frown than it already was, and an involuntary "Hnrgh!" escaped through toothless, clenched jaws. They were at DEFCON 1.

"Man, you're a ticking stink bomb," Peregrine marveled as he heard the youngster's guts rumble threateningly. "How about we spare the peanut gallery?" he suggested in the next moment, making a decision on his feet.

Realizing the risk he was taking, Peregrine nudged the dappled youngster onto his belly again, clipped his scruff in his teeth, then hoisted him and swung around to face the den's mouth. Taking a single step outside it, he gently deposited Pura in the warm afternoon sunshine. He gave a little sigh of relief to have avoided any form of excrement in his nose and mouth.

"Okay, Pura, you're go to burp and fart and shit to your tiny heart's delight," Peregrine declared to the deaf boy. "And the women will thank me for not letting you gas them out of house and home," he mused with a chortle.

Moments after being so expertly aimed, Pura deflated like a water balloon. The look of intense concentration eased as the pressure in his rectum did, until Dunk Perry was left with a relieved-looking whelp and an unsightly brown porridge that smelled like death.

Pura must have been feeling particularly charitable on his fourth day on earth, because he wriggled away rather than into the mess (a first, Hawkeye would no doubt tell her husband), and declared with a squeak that he was very much done and ready to be returned to his sisters.

While Pura presumably evacuated his bowls, the Alpha male stepped over him and walked a few feet to scan the surrounding area, just to make sure nothing was amiss on the home front. An ear twitched backward to acknowledge the pup's various noises and, when the stench hit him, he turned and walked back toward Pura, grimacing playfully.

"Damn, son," he remarked before plucking up the slightly lighter puppy and stepping back into the den. There was a rabbit skin near one wall. He carried Pura toward it, then dropped him gently atop it. "Wipe your ass before you rejoin the group," he instructed the deaf youngster before chortling to himself and reclining nearby.

Wrapping up! :) Your final Pied post was very sad. :(

Pura Virtúte had absolutely no intention of doing any wiping - his very first act of defiance (and against an alpha, too - very daring).

He settled on the soft skin, rubbing his tiny nose against the soft, foreign hairs. They still carried the faint scent of their deceased owner, and instinct told the glands in his mouth that drooling as the appropriate course of action.

Pura burbled and chomped, quickly creating a tiny beard of bubbles. Tendrils of thick, slimy saliva would enthrall him until it was time for another cycle of sleeping, feeding, and unashamedly soiling himself. No doubt Pied was very proud of her only living son, wherever she was now.