Swiftcurrent Creek You Only Live Once

For @Jökull @Lárus and @Maera :D

Váltyr snoozed, curled against his mother's beast to bask in her warmth. Already his weight had doubled, turning into quite a pudgy fellow, and even though his eyes and ears remained closed, he could still feel and smell his siblings besides him. His mother was attentive, and often stirred and cleaned her children to make sure they were well cared for... but sometimes she had to leave the den. He was jostled into a heap, and screamed a complaint when a chilled air replaced his mother's tepid skin. He chirped to his siblings, cooing to find them, and tried desperately to pile on top of them.

Most of Tuwawi's quick get aways went unoticed by the red kissed girl. As long as mama didn't decide to get up while she was latched onto her teat, Maera didn't really mind -or didn't notice. If she wasn't eating, the babe could be found curled up napping next to either mom's belly or Lárus, that up until now had earned the title of Maera's favorite cuddle partner.

So naturally when her older brother wailed announcing their mother's disappereance, Maera just wriggled her foot and gave a faint whimper in response to his cry.

Mother – warmth, giver, brimming with love – left from time to time. Jökull did not know why, exactly, but she had an inkling it was of importance. What other reason was there to leave them? So neonatal, so defenseless. Deep in the heartland of Swiftcurrent Creek, Jökull knew little to nothing of how bastioned the Sveijarn babes truly were. Still, the amplest of the litter was no less disturbed by these moments where they were alone for no more than minutes at a time. Valtýr seconded this notion, calling out to mom as she exited the den.

More often than not, she spent her time cuddling with Valtýr whilst gorging herself, but there were times where she wanted to cuddle with her sister more. Lárus was picked on when such a situation arose. When she wanted to nestle with Maera, there was no ifs, ands, or buts.

Incited by her brother's shriek, Jökull rose her heavy head to sniff at the air. Yes, she could smell him. She could smell all of them; their individualized scents. All so faint so as to protect them from any unknowns of ill intent. Rising to her full height, she took one step and toppled over, nose first into fur. Fur that was not of her siblings, nor her parents. Not so easily deterred, she slid/crawled her way deeper into the den. Pointed nose met the plushness of Valtýr with a fierceness. Oops. But not really. She was just a dick like that.

The plump pillow that was Larus often slumbered next to his siblings, or he would try. Their jostling would always rouse him from his attempt to sleep. When he woke he took comfort in his mother's presence - or in Maera's, since she was often so close in proximity - but today was different. Neither parent was around, and Larus picked up on that absence as he stirred; Maera's flicking foot landing a soft pat across his exposed belly, which had grown full with milk to the point of being bigger than his own head. With a murmured cry of protest, Larus rolled over and gummed at the air, until finally catching something of interest in his mouth. Maera's fur was swiftly swamped by his eager saliva.

((oops... mega old))

Valtýr's plump velveteen body wriggled as he moved, his tiny tail lashing to help balance as he squirmed. Little grunts snorted as he searched for his siblings, blind to their location, and eager to take comfort in their presence. He could smell them - stubby nose working overtime as pinpricked paws clamored against the hide which lined the den. Though his ears remained sealed, the fainted calls of Jökull, Lárus, and Maera could be heard... and so he went in that direction.

However, a force sent him reeling, toppling over the tiny Valtýr onto his backside like an upturned turtle. Such a simple position to be in, but for the tiny newborn it was a struggle. He cried out at first, surprised that his course had been so easily detracted, before writing this way and that in an attempt to right himself. Jökull's husky chuffs could be heard nearby... and he screeched for help, even though his sister had been the one to accidentally shove him.

After answering her older brother's cry, Maera almost instantly fell asleep--again. She ignored Larus' whines and coiled beside him, her ears were deaf to the protest her brothers gave. She wanted to sleep and that was just what she would do.

Until, a gooey sensation reached back. She tried to squirm away from her brother's mouth but the damage had been made, several tufts on her back were filled with Larus' spit. This time it was Maera who screamed in protest, slowly pushing herself on top of her cannibal brother. She'd eat him first.

She met her mark. Poor Valtýr was forced onto his back. One of his limbs nearly hooked her in the face, but she was lucky. What with being so plump and springy, Jökull could not help picking on her baby brother. She herself was just as fat, if not more so. Her siblings – all three of them – seemed to shriek in unison; a sound of uproarious disgruntlement. Jökull could not make out who was who. Not at first. Sensing Valtýr's struggles, Jökull squirmed ever closer...only to discover Valtýr had been upturned. By none other than herself, of course. Pride swelled in her breast. She had managed to defeat her brother at some cheap, made up game. Yet again. Placing her heavy head on Valtýr's belly, she tried to placate him with imploring whines and barks. Would Valtýr share in a round of snuggles?

Posting out of order to wrap this up :o

Valtýr chirped as his small, pudgy, potato-like body squirmed and writhed pathetically on the ground. He was having trouble rolling up, but when he felt Jökull's head upon his round belly, the infant became pacified. He began to coo as he coiled his body beneath his sister's larger figure. He didn't mind being the pillow, as he oh so loved snuggle time. She would be forgiven... like always. His other siblings, Larus and Maera, were not getting along so smashingly. Cries of protest emitted from both sets of tiny lungs, his twins butting heads as usual. Already the firstborn had become accustomed to this, and so he had no trouble resting quietly beneath Jökull's warm body.

Throwing in Tuwa to get this thread wrapped up ^__^

After a few minutes (though to the children, it must have felt like hours) Tuwawi returned having briefly absconded to the creek in search of a drink. With her thirst quenched and body revived, the new mother crept slowly back into the den just in time to witness all the fuss. The children rolled and wrestled, even though they were just a few days old, and openly complained that she had abandoned them so. A sharp pang of guilt switched Tuwawi's maternal instincts into overdrive and she wrapped herself around the little ones, kissing their foreheads to let them know all was well. Shh shhh the ember cooed, guiding the infants back to her rounded side to console them.

Though Valtýr was content to remain Jökull's snugly pillow for all of time, movement of from above stirred the firstborn again. The familiar scent of sweet heather and milk met his nubby nose, the strongest sense at the time, and he knew his mother had return to them. He squawked loudly, finally finding the strength to crawl from beneath his sister's broad head, and shuffled towards his dam's breast. He could hear her coo, and all at once the little prince knew everything was right in the world. Val pressed his face into Tuwawi's sooty fur, a breathed a little sigh of relief before falling back asleep.