Swiftcurrent Creek your mommas a true beauty, butt makes me weep, i call it a boo-hooty

things had just become less-than-copacetic. she was unhappy with being displaced from the lull of sleep and furthermore, the creature comforts of their musty lil bungalow. the babe couldn’t smell squat yet anyway, so her ignorance to the fact that their dwelling reeked of an aesthetic blogger’s eau de toilette (read: worms, humidity, and wet pine needles) made her even less biddable to the notion of fresh air. 

besides, a bit of mold never hurt anybody, oui? she had built up a tolerance during incubation, what with all the mushroom caps Wylla helped herself to amidst gestating her bundle of Oh Fuckin’ Joy.

even though she had her own opinions, they clearly didn’t really matter in the end. i’m not highly susceptible to the elements, or dingos, or whatever, mom, don’t worry about it. do what do you want. her claws scritched against the earth as she vainly tried to latch on in protest, but she was taken into an airlift nevertheless. the most she could do was recruit a puny chirp to express her lack of consent and slew of defiance for the relocation effort. 

despite Wylla’s inner-angst about potentially never loving anything with all her heart and soul ever again, the emo bitch, Tiercel was just counting her blessings that they’d made it to day Now, her still undrowned in a bathtub. any monologuing could take a rain check.

for now, they made a brief trek to the threshold of their den—well, one of them was lugged there—and settled somewhere outside the entrance. the only change Tier could perceive in her realm was the dewiness felt on her skin as she was positioned in Wylla’s underarm, and instead of accepting it all without a fuss, she tried to dodge the lash of tongue with an uncoordinated swivel of her head, which resulted in her clamped ear getting a wet-willy. 

ugh.

she wriggled fitfully, migrating from where she was placed to as far as her nubs could take her, which was generally just mostly upwards. she hustled as quick as she concievably could before the Tower of Strength would inevitably take notice of the population’s very slow attempt to colonize Butt Megalpolis.