Blacktail Deer Plateau Content with the world

Oblivious to the needs of others - and he wouldn't have cared if he had known, not at this age - the boy kept mouthing at the thing in front of him. It tasted different: salty was the word he did not know to describe it. Milk was sweet, fur was soft and mostly tasteless to his mouth, but this was... different. Hardened and salty and tasting also of the earth that he had examined before with his tiny maw. The thing moved, letting him examine its contours with interest.

A rumble overhead appealed and he tipped his head back, mouthing at the whiskers of his father's face as he tried to locate the source of the vibration. Plus, there were different smells/tastes up there too. There was something else his nose sensed and he wanted to explore it further: the mouth of his father. It sounded/smelled/should taste good, he thought.