Blackfeather Woods Clean blow

If litter mates would like some 1 week potato time, here you go! Older sibs also welcome of course. :D

Ramsay may not have had much going for him in life, but one thing he did have was his sense of touch. In fact, at the tender age of one week old, Ramsay was very tactile indeed. It hadn't taken him long to get the lay of the land just by bumping into things with his pugged nose or his weak limbs, and soon enough he was crawling around the limited confines of the whelping den like a champ. Though he certainly looked strange with his truncated spine and his head connected almost directly to his shoulders, Ramsay was showing some promise, and an inability to bob or swivel his head meant his forelimbs were already growing strong.

Most days were a struggle, though. The newborns were cared for and fed according to some unknown internal schedule, but it wasn't as frequent as a newborn whose mother didn't detest them. In fact, it seemed as if Potema took every opportunity to pretend her litter didn't exist at all. Several other wolves ensured she didn't let them starve to death, but even so, she wasn't as doting or willing to feed them as a mother who loved her offspring, so Ramsay was almost always searching for more food. He was doing exactly that at present, throwing out squeaks that ought to summon a caring mother to her babies every few seconds as he pulled himself slowly along with his flailing legs.