Redhawk Caldera Heartsigh.

Someone savagely bit and then twisted Towhee’s nipple, jerking her awake from a dead sleep. A sound somewhere between a snarl and a squeak eked out of her before she could stop it, just like she couldn’t help the flinch or the grimace. She coached herself into staying still as Peregrine continued torturing her teat with his voracious suckling.

She held out as long as she could, though her entire underside felt like an open sore. Between the pups’ teething and the dry air as winter approached, her skin was painfully chapped. Barely swallowing a growl, she gently shook her son loose and stood. She couldn’t hear his indignant squall, though she didn’t miss the angry moue of his mouth nor the flailing.

-Hold on, asshole,- Towhee signed by rote before taking a deep breath, bracing her legs and bringing up her breakfast by force. -There. Eat that, you little prick,- she signed at him.

His muzzy blue eyes seemed to follow her paws’ movements, though how much he understood at this tender age, Towhee couldn’t be sure. She turned her attention to his sisters, nosing @Splendid Fairywren and @Tawny Lark awake so they wouldn’t miss out on this opportunity for a hot, juicy, preprocessed meal.

tawny lark awoke with a squeal and a snort,
nose in the air like a ship in port —
she wriggled, she wobbled, she rolled on through,
the scent of breakfast guiding her true.

a squirm, a flop, a tiny crawl,
she tumbled right over fairywren’s sprawl,
then—ah! the prize! so warm, so near,
she latched without a hint of fear.

a suck, a gulp, a greedy hum,
her tail gave one triumphant thrum;
while milk dripped sweet from mom’s dismay,
tawny lark dined like queen of day.

Fairywren seemed disinclined to rouse despite her mother’s insistent proddings. Towhee scowled, though the expression quickly softened into a concerned frown. Peregrine was the smallest of the trio, though he was lively and growing fast. This little girl, however, was often lethargic and wasn’t putting on weight as quickly as her siblings…

Careless of this, Tawny Lark climbed right over her sprawled sister to get at the regurgitated meat. Peregrine had also dove headfirst into her stew. Heartened that two of her children had responded so well to this first offering, Towhee decided to focus on that small win rather than fret over Fairywren. Sleep was important for growth too, so she would let her—and her own nipples—rest for a bit before trying to nurse her.

Watching Lark in particular for a moment, Towhee signed, -By the way, you’re my favorite for today.-

tawny lark wriggled, proud and bold,
through fairywren’s curls of brown and gold —
her paws all clumsy, her muzzle slick,
she buried her face in the meal so thick.

she snorted once, then twice again,
a meat-mouthed grin from chin to chin,
and though her belly roundly grew,
she wagged — she knew — mom watched her too.

with milk-warm glee she gave a chirp,
a hiccup, then a tiny burp,
for favorites change from day to day,
but tawny lark would always stay.

Both children made quite the mess of themselves. Towhee didn’t interfere, allowing them to quite literally immerse themselves in their first semi-solid meal. But when Tawny Lark slowed down and peered up at her, the Elder didn’t need to hear the burps or hiccups to recognize her daughter had eaten her fill. Which meant it was time for some cleanup.

Leaning over, Towhee gently closed her mouth around Lark’s scruff and hoisted her to a clean spot on the floor. She arranged her paws on either side of the little girl, removing her teeth and replacing them with her tongue. She brushed it over little Lark’s face, then her chest and, finally, her tiny forepaws, carefully removing every last scrap of her meal.

When she was finished bathing her, she lifted her again, tucking her beside her dozing sister and then fixing a shrewd eye on Peregrine. He was still eating. She supposed she should be glad about the runt’s voracious appetite. Shrugging, Towhee settled back onto the floor, body curved around her daughters as she watched her son pig out.

lol'd a bit writing this

tawny lark squealed, a warm little bean,
her fur still damp but soft and clean —
from supper’s smear to mother’s tongue,
she wriggled wild (still barely young).

each swipe brought snorts and tiny kicks,
her milk-round belly doing tricks,
and when mom brushed her tiny rear —
a sudden pffft! sang bright and clear.

the world went still, her paws froze tight,
then came a wiggle of pure delight —
a happy chirp, a wobbled start,
oh, how proud she was to fart.

Towhee remained oblivious to Lark’s gaseous emission until the stench of it suddenly stuffed itself up her nostrils. Her muzzle wrinkled and she eyeballed all three of her offspring, wondering who had unleashed that unholy odor. She decided it must’ve been Peregrine; he was probably swallowing so much air while he ate like a hog at a trough.

-I don’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed, honestly, but this is why you’re not my favorite today,- she commentated to her oblivious offspring.

Finally, Peregrine seemed unable to horf down another mouthful. He took two unsteady steps backward, looking like he might be sick. Towhee’s brow wrinkled in bemusement. Was he about to vomit into her vomit? He’d probably eat it all over again, she didn’t doubt. Luckily, all that came out of him—presumably, since she only saw the signs but heard nothing of the accompanying sound—was an enormous belch.

Carefully, the Elder collected her pudgy little boy. She cleaned his face but decided it was too risky to put any kind of pressure elsewhere on his little body right now. He was liable to explode and if she could avoid that happening in her mouth, then… Towhee snorted quietly as she nosed him in among his sisters.

-Sleep, my little shitburgers,- Towhee urged, not without a fond gleam in her orange eyes.

tawny lark blinked up with milk-dazed bliss,
her world a wobble, a sway, a kiss —
she gave a burp so round and sweet
it puffed like bubbles at her feet.

her tiny ribs went huff, then hic,
her tongue poked out in one soft lick,
and with her belly full and warm
she curled into her mother’s form.

a sigh, a nestle, a fluttered ear,
she pressed herself to mom so near —
dreams drifting in like gentle rain,
tawny lark asleep again.

i'm good to fade this!