Swiftcurrent Creek the season to be jolly

Bazi was no more than a few inches from Puppy Base Camp (colloquially known as Paarthurnax's boobies), but traversing any distance at all was difficult for someone who was about as graceful as a furry potato with four toothpicks stuck in it.

The pale Creek wolf grinned broadly at the efforts of each pup. Durnehviir scaled a mountain to join the fun, landing next to her golden brother. Bazi reached out a paw and scooped them closer to her chest, adding a third pup - her very own miniature - to the crowd by picking him bodily up in her mouth and depositing him on top of the other two. The chillaxed little runt was already gnawing his sister harmlessly, darkening her fur with drool.

Trajan was the last to leave his mother's side. Even at his tender age, the grey princeling acted every bit like the lord of the manor. Bazi widened the gap between her front legs to accommodate yet another pup, and lowered her nose until it was just above the childrens' little heads. "Come on then, you," she encouraged the tiny Shadow look-alike. "Move those little feeties, and come give auntie a kiss."