Redhawk Caldera Mona Lisa: the original basic bitch

There was a stick at the mouth of the den. Killdeer had discovered it the other day, and since then, it had become his pride and joy. Now fairly nibbled-on and slobbered-upon, it was never far from his side, and he picked it up today, parading proudly around the den. . .and then out.

Buh buh buh buh, he announced, sing-song. The sun played an incredible pattern upon his quite-Redhawk-esque patterned fur, blacks and browns, reds and and whites.

He didn't go far, because he knew the tawny figure that was Mama & the big dark figure that he thought had been referred to as Gramma would not be far, ready to tow him back. He wanted to enjoy the freedom while he had it. Drool streaming from the corners of his small mouth, he spat out the stick and then butted it with his nose, sending it rolling.

Hhhhehhh! Killdeer exclaimed in a giggle-exhale, and went charging after it, hoping to stop the stick's motion before it came to a halt on its own.

He, instead, went rolling himself, somersaulting into the grass and fresh mud.

He was well adapted to his sisters’ teasing and even his mother’s occasional brooding. He was also used to his father’s, aunt’s and sister’s sporadic hiatuses. But they usually took turns and, right now, these things were happening all at once. The result: life at the caldera was currently the pits.

Towhee tended to watch him like a hawk, ever since Reyes had roughed him up a bit. Caracal shrugged it off much of the time, though he did pay close attention when the Sovereign’s eyes slipped shut this afternoon. He didn’t know where the twins were right at the moment but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get away.

He bolted in no particular direction and ran with his tongue flopping from his mouth like a wet sock. His Aurelian eyes spotted something in the distance, so he veered that way and eventually skidded to a halt beside his young, unmet nephew. Dust settled around and on him as he panted, marveling at the pudgy little squirt.

Author: Kat

There was yuck in his mouth. He spat it out, though his weakling muscles could only manage a puff and a stream of dirt-tinged spittle. He let out a despondent, breathy whine. Then he brought his still-blue eyes upward and gasped, staring at a golden figure that was all too familiar.

Mom! he thought, but all that escaped his mouth was a puzzled, Ahhh? Comically, Killdeer ripped his gaze from the figure toward the den, then back to the figure, then back to the den. If his mother was in there when he'd last seen her, then how did @Fennec. . .

She was sneaky!

Clambering to his paws, Kill gave the other pup a butt with his chonky little head, snuffling around wait this wasn't mother oh no this was not mother no milk smell no milk NO MOTHER

RED ALERT STRANGER DANGER — Killdeer backed up fast and ended up on his butt, though still snarling and growling ferociously (so cute!! any onlooker would have remarked) at his older counterpart.

He looked a bit like, well, every other member of his natal family, though he was quite a bit smaller and… HEY! Caracal exclaimed, eyes going wide, Hey, you got a wiener! That made him think of the only masculine figure in his life for a beat, though only in passing. You’re not a girl, he continued in a wondering tone, thinking of the twins before his complexion crinkled and he spat, Girls suck butts! He felt a flush of heat when he realized what he’d just said about his own mother and other female relatives, though like his thought of Reyes, he didn’t linger on it.

Instead, he sniffed toward the smaller puppy, though he stopped short and cocked his head when he growled. Hey, I’m a boy too! Don’t be a butt sucker, Caracal replied indignantly, an edge of warning in his voice now. Are you the nephew? he asked, tone shifting to bright and inquisitive in the space of a breath. He felt pretty darn clever for recollecting the kid’s existence. What’s your name again?

Author: Kat

And just like that, words. Too many words.

As soon as he'd latch onto one sentiment, the older boy was onto another. And then another. And then another. Killdeer blinked, stupefied, even growling forgotten as he stared at this loud, strange creature.

One of him. . .one of them. Right? Yeah. Otherwise Mom would run him off?

Buh, he puffed, tilting his head one way, then the other. Slowly, he righted himself, ending up on all fours and toddling a few steps closer to his counterpart. Buhz.

Isn't that what he'd said? Gur suh buhz. Killdeer mouthed it, but couldn't find the right combination of movement and speech to mimic it.

Buh? Caracal cracked up at such a dumb name, before it hit him: that wasn’t the kid’s name, he was trying to say “butts.” The older pup went right on laughing, slapping one dusty red forepaw against the ground in amusement.

You mean butts? Butt-t-t-uh-sss! Butt-t-t-tsss, Caracal exclaimed, taking pleasure in simply saying the word with such emphasis. Cue more childish laughter. But it would be even better if he could get the small fry to say it (properly) too. C’mon, try it again! Say ‘butts’! BUTTS!

Author: Kat

Amused by Caracal's exaggerated attempts, Killdeer began to giggle along with him. B-b-b— But now he was laughing too hard to say it, his little sides heaving. 

You ever see those YouTube videos of babies in hysterics? Adorable, right?

Now imagine a puppy doing that.

B-b-BUSSSZZZZZ!!! the younger kid hollered, sending spittle flying, and his laughter pealed across the small clearing. Wait, was his first word "butts"? I hope you're proud, Mom and Dad.

Still wheezing, he gave the golden boy's shoulder a little boop with his snoot, then rolled over, growling—though this time, it was all in play. Grrrr. Busszzz.

The lil’ fellow made a big effort, though he couldn’t quite pop his double “t.” Caracal rolled his eyes and laughed right along with him. He rather enjoyed the sound of the younger pup’s babyish peals of laughter and felt good about being the one to prompt them. The girls never laughed at his jokes.

More of that, please! Eager to keep him going, Caracal said, Haha, ya, close enough, I guess, and then sucked in a huge breath before shouting, Butts! Butts! BUUUTTS! Fuckin’ butts! Butt fuckin’! Fuck a butt! It didn’t quite rhyme but the assonance pleased him. Did it please his nephew too?

Author: Kat

His nearly-not-floppy-but-still-slightly-floppy ears perked up; he heard Caracal say something that sounded like butts, but wasn't quite.

Fuhhh, Killdeer breathed, and giggled. A consonant or two short of Fennec putting the proverbial soap in his mouth. . .but he'd get there, especially with this pottymouth of an uncle. Fuhhhn busszz.

The laughing had worn him out. His eyelids were fluttering, and he let loose an enormous yawn, jaws gaping, eyes squinting momentarily shut. He peered out of one of these now, staring at the older boy, wondering just what he'd say next.

Somewhere between Caracal's next words and Killdeer's attempt at responding, the pup fell asleep, gently snoring in his utter but happy exhaustion.

He only earned a giggle. How anticlimactic. Caracal paused and frowned, wondering what the heck he had to do to get another proper laugh out of the kid. Ignoring the signs of his nephew’s exhaustion, the older boy sucked in a huge breath, his chest actually puffing up with it.

He held it for a moment, trying to remember all the good swears he’d learned from Towhee, before blaring, SUCK A FUCKING BUTT! WIENER BITCH ASS—! Caracal officially ran out of breath there.

He was gearing up to draw in another when the little furball keeled over and fell asleep. Caracal made a choking noise and stared, a look of disgust slowly creeping over his face. How dare he pass out in the middle of Caracal’s amazing, cussing encore!

Shitstain, Caracal muttered sulkily under his breath, moving to leave. Before he went, though, he glanced over his shoulder and couldn’t help but smile. He was a cute little shitstain though.

Author: Kat