Sun Mote Copse The father that taught me

Q had, for once, actually been sleeping. It was the one time there was peace on earth for all the family; she was not trying to escape, she was not trying to harass anyone (read: her parents, or whoever else made themselves known in the den), and she was not yelling. When she did sleep it was a deep sleep, too; no amount of noise, nudges, or anything else could rouse her. There could be an earthquake and Q would likely sleep through it. 

Except, as today revealed, the scent of food. A tendril of it came to her at first, and that wasn't enough. But her dream shifted its scheme entirely. It wasn't long before the scent soon became stronger the longer it lingered, and Q roused at last. Bleary-eyed, she surveyed the den and watched as Alyx smeared her brother with something... 

And her eyes soon enough found the source. Lazily Q stumbled toward the pile, looking to her dad then this nasty-looking-goop on the floor. It might have looked nasty, but it smelled like a new sort of five star meal. Q, who would try anything once, began to chow down. It was really good, which resulted in her eating faster with a wagging tail. If she ate any faster, she'd probably get sick herself. This was different than the taste of milk, but not so bad... 

still, it would be nice to have to wet her mouth with, she thought, and looked to her dad with a vomitty grin as she smacked her lips in the process.