Heron Lake Plateau could you el a little less oh el.

just an FYI for @Towhee and @Phox--Fig's going to be a little dick about being weaned :D ilukthx

Fig was screaming. Again.

The removal of Camilla from his life did not have the profound effect on him that losing a parent so often did on a child. He was shielded from that devastation by his very young age. He would likely lose her from his memory entirely as he grew, which would've been unfortunate had he not been blessed to have Towhee and Phox to fill in the gap. As nice as that was, however, it also brought on one major flaw - he was still young enough to want his mother's milk and to stubbornly reject the regurgitated meat soup they were trying to force upon him. Which was a problem seeing as there was no milk to give anymore.

Not that Fig understood that, of course. He didn't realize that by screaming his head off whenever they tried to feed him this new crap, he was slowly starving himself to death. He also didn't realize that by starving himself to death, he was making himself infuriatingly hungry, which gave him a second reason to scream his head off. He's quite the little moron, you see.

But, that's being a kid for you. So anyway, as I mentioned: Fig was screaming.

Although she couldn't hear the pups' squalling, Towhee was far from oblivious to their predicament. Her nerves were pretty frayed as she and her brother did their best to make sure little Fig and Fen were fed and didn't follow Camilla into the grave. The Beta hadn't even had a chance to properly acknowledge the woman's death and wondered how Phox was processing all of it. Maybe it was a good thing the pups took up all of their time.

She hadn't patrolled in days, nor slept very well. She was just catching a few winks when Fig began screaming. Towhee went on snoring, undisturbed by the ruckus.

Having a deaf sitter was probably the best thing for this particular litter. While Fenn seemed generally well-behaved, Fig was far less content with... well, contentment. He preferred being vocal, and squirming--two things that likely made his papa Fidget quite proud. Or miserable. IDK.

At that moment, Fig was not in the least bit content. Being vocal, however, seemed to be failing him. Which isn't to say he gave up on it, just that he was determined and adaptable enough to employ his second talent in an effort to get some damn attention for himself. It took him a solid quarter of an hour to finally move onto phase two, but when he did, it was still with just as much shrieking as before. Just with the added bonus of the squirming.

With any luck, Fenn wasn't near him when he made his break for it. Even if she was, Fig would've trampled her on his way to the holy land (aka boob town, where he mistakenly thought he could get a decent meal). As usual, he didn't pay much attention to which direction he went. It usually didn't matter. Moving in any direction eventually triggered one of the big things to grab him and place him back at his dinner plate.

His trajectory that afternoon seemed fairly promising as after a few minutes of peddling his little legs on the floor of the den, he felt himself bumping right into Towhee's muzzle. With obnoxious determination, the boy gave a grumpy little war cry and attempt to vault himself directly on top of it, as though boarding an elevator. While screaming. God, that would be so weird to be in an elevator and then someone comes in, incessantly screaming bloody murder.

Oh, Fenn was definitely in his way.

Maybe Towhee was deaf, but his sister definitely wasn't, and after a while she'd certainly had enough of his screamfest.  So she was moving too, in his direction, so that she could sit on his head and finally get a nap.

But alas, he got to it first.

She squealed indignantly when he climbed over her, but was too small to do much about it.  Cool bro, cool.

When something pressed against her face, Towhee curled her lip and grumbled as she very slowly surfaced from sleep. Before her eyes even opened, everything came back to her: Camilla was dead, she was looking after the pups with Phox, her brother had stepped out for a little bit... Towhee snapped fully awake and nearly jerked her head upward, only to freeze when she realized it must be her nephew or niece (son or daughter? neon and naughter?) crawling on her face.

Gently, Towhee slid her muzzle out from beneath Fig. She could see his mouth open in a silent scream and bit back a sigh. He was almost definitely hungry. She felt a strange impulse to tuck him in beside her flank, as if she could nurse him. But of course she couldn't. Even if she was pregnant from her recent forays—a thought which she'd barely let herself entertain ever since Camilla's untimely demise—she wasn't lactating and so there was nothing she could offer the pups in that department.

But she could and would try to offer them meat slurry, no matter how futile it sometime felt. After rearranging the pups beside one another, Towhee rose to her feet and stepped outside, where she found some dried meat. She chewed it into a mush but didn't bother swallowing. Instead, she swung around and reentered the den, depositing the meat-and-slobber soup right on the floor beside the kiddos.

Fig had just begun to paddle his little peets against Towhee's face when she moved. He slid unceremoniously off of her snout and plopped onto the ground, which caused him to disrupt his screaming with an indignant little squeak. He quieted then expectantly, knowing that he was soon to be relocated to the nipple factory. And he remained quiet out of shock when instead of doing her matronly duty and giving him some boob, Towhee disappeared from his side, leaving him alone with only his sister for comfort. Which gave him very little comfort at all, seeing as he'd learned by now that he couldn't eat her. She bit back.

Fig began to wail again as his aunt/mom/maunt (I almost tried "mount" and now I'm laughing) exited the den. He squirmed around to follow the sound of her footsteps, bopping straight into Fenn's nose. He squeaked again in surprise, only this time, he didn't continue. This time, his eyes popped open, and he found himself staring into his sister's face for the very first time.

It was super blurry. Was she always so blurry?

Fenn's eyes had opened a bit ago, because I wrote that and completely forgot that I wrote it.  The day after her mother died, to be precise, but the experience had been pretty unremarkable.  Same den, same stubby legs, same brother, same weird big presence.  The wierd big presence now had a shape though, as did her brother, and it was for some reason interacting.  Sometimes she wanted to go places and it stopped her.  This was irritating.

When it left, she began to move again, turning to make a bid for freedom.  Only to end up nose to nose with her brother, who blinked back, having finally caught up.  She yipped... c'mon, lets go!  But nope.  Instead Towhee was back depositing food.  Alright, she could spare a second for a snack before escaping.  She nosed her way over to eat the amazing not-gross-at-all fare in front of her.

She stepped back and gnawed at her lip, prepared to have her offering rejected. Towhee might end up more or less force-feeding the pups, which she hated. She felt some of the tension in her muscles loosen as Fennec went right for the meat slurry. Towhee wanted to praise her, maybe offer an encouraging nudge, but she didn't dare interfere. A steady wag of her tail would have to do.

She watched the tiny girl eat for a moment, then glanced over at Fig. -You too, buddy,- she signed over his sister's head, noting with a beat of surprise that he was abruptly looking back at her. -That just happen?- she marveled. -Congrats, now you can see your barf soup as well as smell and taste it. Now eat.- Of course, there was no way he knew what she was saying—or even that she was communicating at all—so Towhee coaxed him to feed by nudging him closer to the proverbial dinner table.

Fenn apparently did not share his fascination. She looked at him for a moment, then turned away to go enjoy the godawful lunch they'd been provided by their sitter. Fig was not so easily distracted. Plus, he still wanted his milk.

The boy blinked up at Towhee in fascination. She was just a large blob to him, but he'd never seen such a big blob before, so she was still pretty intriguing. Especially as some of her blob parts began to move. His little mouth hung open as she signed at him and his head canted heavily to the right. When she leaned down to nudge him, he turned to continue to stare at her face with wide eyes.

His world had apparently just gotten a whole lot more awesome. But before the shock could wear off and joy could take him, he was being nudged toward his arch nemesis.

The meat slurry.

With an indignant squeak, Fig turned away and tried to smush himself into some part of big blurry Towhee. He probably found her paw, but it could just as easily have been her face for all he was able to see. He opened his jaws wide and tried to find something to suckle. There had to be milk somewhere in this place. There had to be. And by god, with this new magical power he'd obtained, he was going to find it.

Fenn didn't particularly like this changeup in diet, but she didn't hate it either.  It tasted fine and took the same amount of effort (none) so she was chill chowing down on it.  She didn't eat a whole lot anyway.  There were things worth being difficult over and things not, and food that tasted good wasn't one of them.  She completely ignored Fig's struggles until she finished, but when she was done, she made her way over to where he was shoving his way into Towhee.

And, because she was terrible, she opened her mouth right over his head, releasing a goopy mouthful to plop right on top and slide down next to his ears.

Towhee bit back a sigh when the newly sighted Fig promptly turned his back on her offering and buried his face near her armpit. She was just about to gather him up by the scruff and pointedly place him back beside the food when his sister toddled nearer and abruptly barfed on his head. It startled a loud laugh out of their makeshift mother.

She scooted carefully backward to avoid the mess, though she didn't escape a smear or two on her upper leg. Towhee quickly washed it away with her tongue, then returned her attention to the pups. -I appreciate the assist,- she informed Fennec even as she waited to see if any of the meat soup would make its way into Fig's mouth.

Fig felt his frustration rising again as he gnawed on his caretaker in an effort to get to the milk he knew she was withholding from him. Hear that? He knew it. So quit lying about your dry ass teets, lady! He gummed at her with all his might, but the armpit simply would not yield. It was while he was contemplating his next move that he felt Fenn bumping against him--something he intended to ignore completely up until the moment he felt the warm grossness splatter onto his head.

The boy squeaked in surprise and indignation and turned his head to gape at Fenn. His mouth hung open as he gave her a look that simply screamed UM, OFFENDED!!???, which fortunately for him, gave the meat soup time to dribble onto his tongue and then subsequently down his throat when he felt compelled to swallow. The boy began to lick his lips then, trying to clean himself up and totally not trying to eat the horrible, evil not-milk because it was evil and not-milk, and accidentally swallowing more. Not enough to placate his aching hunger, but hey, every little bit helped.

The look her brother gave her was horrified, and Fenn giggles, a little bit of drool still dribbling from the corner of her mouth.  She might grow to really like this new food - it had even more uses than milk did.  Besides that, it had made Towhee laugh, and that right there was amazing.  She was old enough to realize that much.

Foo. she said firmly, a light of mischief entering her eyes as she turned to get another mouthful.  If he wasn't going to eat it, well... she was going to torture him with it.  End of story.

In Fig's efforts to clean himself, some of the goop went down the hatch. Towhee was pretty sure of that, at least. She sighed, equal parts affectionate, relieved and weary.

Demonstrating impeccable timing, @Phox popped into the den with a slim weasel dangling limply from his jaws. -You're up, dad,- she signed simply before making a hasty exit, though not before giving the messy kiddos each a loving bonk.

You two are welcome to continue or archive!

Fig glowered at his sister as he continued mopping up the slop and subsequently consuming it against his will. He felt like he'd been played, which meant there was retribution to be won. So, as soon as he'd finished cleaning himself up, he pounced on Fenn and attempted to gobble up one of her floppy ears. See how she liked something being dropped on her head. Something like his FACE.

Take that, sister friend.

She'd just scooped up a mouthful, immensely pleased with this scheme she'd latched onto, when Towhee booped her and left.  She watched her go, but that distraction gave Fig enough time to thwart her.  He pounced on her ear and startled her into opening her mouth, dropping the bit that had been locked and loaded for delivery onto his head.

Well, that plan was forgotten!  She fell over sideways and nommed for his face back, but couldn't reach.  Augh!  Darn her neck range and nubby muzzle!

Fenn's little plot didn't entirely fail, for Fig had turned the den floor where the slop was laying into their battleground. It was already on his limbs and his belly as he attacked. It would continue to get smeared all over them and seeing as Fig would continue to try to bite whatever he could, he'd end up with a decent meal in his belly in no time. Exhausted from bitey fights and full from bitey fights, the boy would pass out right on top of his sister in another ten minutes or so.

Meanwhile, I'm entirely disgusted and I'm going to need them to be fully weaned like immediately.