Sun Mote Copse me or her? HAHA! me or her?

As always, the peachy boy was the brunt of his sibling's emotions. Kicking, shoving, wiggling. He had felt the rough movement around him as far as he could remember, however it was much more irking now that he wasn't encased within his mothers womb. No. Now he was more exposed, and every kick and shove would send him wiggling free.

And Just as his sister kicked as a form on communication, Primrose found his in vocalizing. Loudly. He would whimper for everything, cry loudly, and wiggle about in reaction to just about everything.

Bath time? Cry
Hungry? Cry
Cold? Cry
Attention? Cry

So when he felt his sister's shoves he let out a high pitched cry and wiggled about, attempting to crawl around, which sadly only ended up in him laying over her.