Lost Creek Hollow milk bottle

AW.. but makes sense for @Harlyn @Mordecai @Silas @Larkspur to be there.

If Pippin’s mind could contemplate his joys and victories in depth, the boy would have eagerly determined that sleep and eating were his primary and by far favored activities. As it was, the cub was only a week old yet, and he had yet to discover the intricate details of himself.
 
The day was like any other – Harlyn’s warmth was a nearly constant presence, and lazily, Pippin rolled over to his back, his paws arching in the air before he gave a stretch that stirred a tremor in his entire little body. His mouth opened in a lazy yawn as he relaxed, and a drop of drool slithered out past his lips and oozed down his cheeks.
 
A tiny noise escaped him – something between a grunt and a squeak.. and then, after a mighty pause, Pippin released a rather loud burp, signifying only moments before he had indeed been sampling from Harlyn’s teet once more. Life was good.

They grew, but hardly not in the exponential way they would in the days and weeks to come. And he marvelled over them all the same, eyes aglow in warmth that did not always visibly turn up on the scarred stoicism that rested. Often when he had been able to steal a free moment, Mordecai found he was content for once to let the world pass him by to watch over the trio of babes. But those moments were far and few in between, with all that came in the day to day. Borders to be maintained, wayfarers to greet and fend off inevitably queries and debate internally their suitability; he tired of it quickly and was more than comforted in the fact that there had been others so willing to step up and pull more of their weight.

Movement drew his attention — rather, the sound of such — and Mordecai was long turning his head to gander a look before he knew what it was. He shifted and rose, drawing his large frame to wind tightly and carefully in the almost bottle-necked part of the den to better watch. Where he had anticipated a fair amount of movement there was not, and he had only settled back to the warm patch of earth in time to hear a particular noise that stated contentedness. It prompted a snort of amusement from him, followed by him reaching out to nudge Pippin purely for a reaction.

There was an aftertaste that followed -- and while it might have caused the nose of his nearby siblings who would waft in the scent that followed, it would stir a contentment within the boy.. and the desire to seek more of his mother's milk.

No sooner did his tiny jaws open as he aimed to nuzzle the air in search of a nipple once more did a nudge come upon him -- and the reaction of the small cub was to latch his tiny jaws upon the nose that prodded at him before giving a rather obnoxious suck, hoping to be rewarded with a treat of some kind. This was no nipple -- nor was it the warmth of his mother, but Pippin was not necessarily picky just yet.. though disappointment would emanate form him as a tiny whimper when there was indeed no milk to be found here.

An amused smile spread across his muzzle when Pippin made the move to latch on. It did not last long; doubt and confusion seemed to nestle itself down in the face of his son. Pippin made his discontentment known swiftly and Mordecai shifted to correct it, drawing his long legs to sit at either side of the boy. He lavished him with the same affection he had them all — a reassuring lick to their tiny bodies. He knew very little about how their world worked and his own adventures at that age were long forgotten. But he would not let them be unsatisfied with their world thus far.

Surrounded by the warmth of his father, Pippin was quick to quiet, his tiny whimper fading to silence. A kiss was planted upon him – unseeing, unknowing of what the gesture truly was, all the babe knew was the comfort it offered, and it was enough to stir the youth to curl against the warmth of his father’s forelimbs. His tiny jaws would suckle upon the short furs along the side of Moredcai’s paws, his tiny form twisting every so often as his milk-bloated belly would round up to the air at times.
 
Life was good – warm, loving. The thoughts that did form in his mind were replaced rather quickly, much in comparison to the memory of a fish. Within moments, Pippin’s tiny form rose and fell in slower breaths as sleep overtook him, and one paw reached out to touch the tip of his father’s own paw – twitching as slumber encompassed him.

It was such a small gesture, but Mordecai supposed that even if he had a heart truly made of ice it would have thawed and melted slightly with minute movements that came to the gradually stilling boy. Of course what he could not help but take note of was still how small his children seemed, even after all the time that had passed. Not that he expected them to grow in leaps and bounds, but he knew there would be a time when such a thing would come. His own mother had often remarked how quickly it seemed children grew, and he of course then being a child, had never understood it.

But now, it would have seemed his own childhood was a million days and miles behind him, left somewhere beneath enough sand and dust to last a lifetime. Gently in his attempt to disturb the sleep-whisked son, Mordecai let own his head rest on the warm floor of the den and pushed those thoughts away. There was much time left before such things were apart of the past he thought and for now, he took enjoyment in the silence that had fallen over the den, save the resting breaths of them all.

Last, ridiculously short post. :D

His dreams would take him, and it would be hours before he woke fully again – his paws twitched in his sleep, and gentle noises were made from his tiny muzzle. Yet all was peaceful to the boy who knew nothing but warmth and love. Life had a way of passing by quickly, but little Pippin had yet to figure that one out.