Ankyra Sound i'm in this race and i'm hoping just to place

Lusca was missing, and Wylla was unconcerned. The first time this had happened she'd cried and screeched and fumbled around with useless limbs as if the entire world was falling apart around her—even the squishy forms of her siblings did nothing to quell her newborn fury—but this time she was heavily drunk on her mother's milk and felt almost no separation anxiety, likely due to her half-asleep state. She teetered on the brink of consciousness, occasionally drifting into sleep only to wake when a rivulet of snot entered her opened mouth or a milk bubble popped in the corner of her drool-lathered lips.

The fourth time she awoke was because she was being squashed into the floor. The sensation was enjoyable for all of seven seconds, reminiscent of her subconscious time in the cramped womb and close to enough to the day of her birthing to still be comforting, and yet the verve of life was already claiming her being and soon she grew discontent. She sucked in a huge breath and attempted to squeal, but the sound was more of a gurgle punctuated by a mighty hiccup. This served to dislodge Lycaon (as far as Wylla was concerned), but the babe was in need of retribution and sought him out with flailing legs and gnashing gums.

She located the overturned Lycaon purely by mistake, and when her slobbery gums closed on something, that it was his delicate little paw went unregistered. The feel of it was wrong and Lusca's tits weren't fuzzy, but making connections wasn't a babe's strong suit. She sucked on it, hard, treating it every bit the same thoughtless way she treated her poor mother's chapped nips.