Redhawk Caldera Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out?

The warm, soft, short fur of his sister inched away, but that didn't deter Fidget. Curious, he squirmed forward again. Instead of running into his sister, though, he sniffed at the much larger, longer-haired Raven. These hairs tickled less (for whatever reason), and he continued to sniff and puff at her for a few more breaths. She smelled of comfort, food, and family. Phox would never know his biological mother, of course, but he would always associate his godparents and older sister with being his parents. Perhaps even Eljay, if he was around enough. The smell of food tugged him toward a teat, and before long, Fidget was suckling away, dribbles of milk coming out either side of his tiny pugged muzzle.