Sawtooth Spire freeze! you with the pretzeled arms

beamed up into the UFO that was the gentle glove of her father’s maw, the girl paddled pitifully in the air against the effortless transport, mourning her departure from the beloved milk bar. 
resigned to this fate, the moonchild settled into the hamper of her father-doktor's paws for tending to, grizzling as he took stock of her wellbeing, and only loudly fussing if her shoulders were palpated. the tenderness there would subside in a week or so, but for now, any flare up was cause for dramatics. 
when he spoke to her, warm breath was strewn against her ticklish toes and belly and although it could explained away as passing gas, a smile briefly dimpled her cheeks. 
after her checkup was complete (um, don’t you usually get a sucker after these appointments?) and mahler gathered his daughter against his breast, she yawned fiercely with the threat of sleep tiptoeing in, but nein! sleep was for the dead! tolerating his cradling for some moments, she mouthed self-soothingly on her own paw and the sandman almost had her, til hiccups jostled her awake.
deciding he would make a better jungle gym for the time being anyway, she maneuvered his bosom with the speed and agility of an inchworm. another hic foiled her progress, trundling her down into his arms.
the assembly of smells coming from his mouth drew forth most of her curiosity—meat, perhaps perfumed herbs he'd recently accrued, his own distinct musk—so when when he came within reach she lipped at his whiskers and worked her pink gums against his chin, instinctively trying to latch onto it like she would a teat. (hey phone if u could stop autocorrecting teat to twat that’d be great thx)