adults talking

Whit whimpered pathetically when his flailing achieved him nothing, which actually seemed to help as he felt a cold nose against his side that rolled him back onto his belly. Once righted, Whit felt good and ready to search for some nipples to shove in his mouth. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he was, what direction he was going, or which way he even needed to be heading.

The baby Frostfur sniffled blindly at the air before setting off, actually headed in a wriggly, awkward line towards Danica. When after moving about two inches, the boy became quite certain that he was woefully and hopelessly lost. He slowed slightly with his paddling then to let out a long, whiny Awrhhhhh. It was half whimper, half squeaky howl. His first! Even at such a young age, it seemed his infant mind was aware that he was a wolf and wolves got attention by throwing their voices for as long and as loud as they could. Having lungs the size of quarters (maybe?) did not allow a whole lot of breath for success with the howl, and thus it quickly faltered off into a little burp.