herding cats in a hurricance

For all the babies and fambly - @Swift @Pasha @Allure II @Whittier :) Others welcome to drop in.

The wind howled outside the family's little den, spitting rain through the door. The ocean winds had brought a far-away storm to bear on the shores of the Teekon Wilds, reaching far beyond the sands to claim Nova Peak and its surrounding forests.

Bazi watched it rage with a crinkle of worry on her forehead, shielding her brood bodily from nature's wrath. She stayed close enough to the doorway to keep an eye on what was going on, and the fur on her back was damp as a result. The trees creaked and twisted in the wind, illuminated by occasional flashes of lightning. Thunder followed - distant at first, but the mother was careful to count the seconds between flash and rumble. It was definitely getting closer.

So far, Swift's developing boldness had brought about no consequences, or at least none that were enough to deter him. Thus, he was right at his mother's side, peering into the outside world, a world that was usually quiet aside from birdsong that had become rather noisy and chaotic. The wind howled, the trees cowered before it, and the rain soaked his mother's back. Flashes of light and a distant rumbling were not scary, they were curiosities. His ears, still in a state of folded-ness, were as perked as they could be, as he leaned forward to sniff the cool, wet air. It was though the incoming storm had caused world had taken on an entirely new scent, and he was very interested in all of it.

The littlest Frostfur climbed onto his mother. His nose dropped to her damp fur, and idly he licked, as his eyes continued to gaze upward into the world outside the den. But soon, his attention was drawn from outside the den to his mother alone. Water was a new concept to him, a new taste, and a new smell, and for now it had stolen the show from the storm. Swift licked and nuzzled through his mother's fur, intrigued by this new thing.

Whit was really not a fan of storms. For one, they were cold, and he rather liked it when the sun warmed his fur. Two, they were wet, which... Okay, wet just sucked. It was icky and uncomfortable and just not okay. Last but not least, they were noisy. Cold, icky and noisy were definitely NOT conducive for napping, and thus they made the hefty Frostfur quite the unhappy camper.

The pup's eyes fluttered open when a particularly loud roll of thunder quaked overhead. Though his ears were still developing, it almost felt as though the sound was pressing heavily upon his eardrums. He was not a fan, and he quickly made it known with an unhappy series of whimpers and growls.

Unfortunately, it seemed that only Allure and Pasha were around to pay him any attention. Grumbling, Whit wriggled about until he located his mother at the mouth of the den. With a grunt, he rolled onto his paws. Or.. he tried. It actually took about four grunts and attempted rolls before he finally righted himself and began to waddle towards his mama. He was grumpy damnit, and like hell he was just going to lay there and not be placated.

The cold was not something Allure had battled often – the den usually held an air of warmth to it, and heat was only tenfold within the comfort of her mother’s and siblings fur. A chill had taken to her, though, and shivering, the bi-toned baby released a soft whimper, unfurling herself from Pasha and clumsily stumbling (whilst falling a few times) toward her mother. Bazi shielded them from the brunt of the storm, but the little girl was not content until she pushed closer in to the nook or her mother’s armpit, towards her belly. Gumming silently at Bazi’s paw, Allure remained aware that something was different about the air – but oblivious to what the rattle of thunder and gusts of wind could truly mean or be.

The pups had varying reactions to the storm. Bazi was starting to wonder if Swift even knew how to be scared, or if he was just too busy being curious about the world to worry that it might turn around and hurt him. He burrowed his little nose into her coat, tasting fresh water. Bazi watched him until Whittier came waddling up, clearly displeased. Not scared - just unhappy that his latest record-beating nap had been interrupted. Bazi was starting to give up hope that her chubbiest baby would amount to anything but a potato at this stage, and hoped to high heaven that some girl would find that attractive. "Do you want me to plug your ears, little man?" she teased, seizing Whittier by the scruff of his neck and placing him next to an exposed nipple - a ploy to keep him silent. It had the dual effect of placing a second big and warm thing next to Allure, who was becoming a little too big to fit comfortably in her mother's armpit.

"Bazi was starting to wonder if Swift even knew how to be scared," bwhaha you'll see ;)

When he had finished nosing through his mother's fur, which did not take long given his currently short attention span, he awkwardly slid down her back (because Swift had yet to develop any kind of grace) landing in a sprawl on the ground between Bazi and the den entrance. He gathered his feet, but he did not take off this time. With his nose to the ground he slowly started checking out the rain on the dirt, his salmon tongue poking out to taste it, too. The storm continued to brew, and a loud clap of thunder caused him to duck and his head too whip around to look toward the noise. He blinked as the wind blew and the rain started to hit him. For a moment he simply stood, but then he felt the cold and backpedaled until his rump brought up against his mother.

Don't know if post order matters here so I'm posting again. :)

Bazi watched Swift's striped back intently. She had suggested to @Scimitar that they should have named in 'sloth' and saved themselves a lot of trouble, but it was too late now, so Bazi could only hold her breath and hoped that the rain would dissuade him from escaping. When he finally reversed, Bazi parted her forelegs to receive him, folding a paw closed over the gap like the door to a stable. Swift could jump it, of course, but she was prepared to seize him by the scruff of the neck of he tried. "Rain and thunder isn't as harmless as it looks," she preached, "You can't hear, can't smell.. things can creep up on you. You remember that when you're out on your own."

For as quickly as Whittier attempted to clamber to the entrance of the den, his sister suddenly appeared at his side, shooting past him like a dart. The boy saw her scoot past him and instantly he began to grumble indignantly. How dare she just waggle on past like this wasn't the greatest struggle of her lifetime, which it obviously was.

Whittier paused for a moment, his sides heaving breathlessly. He couldn't really remember what he was annoyed with in the first place, but it didn't matter now. He had a new target. Sucking in a deep breath, he began his forward charge again and eventually wriggled up behind her. With a grunt, he jumped at her, aiming to clamp her ear in his jaws, but instead hitting her somewhere around the muzzle and then tumbling ineffectively onto the ground beside her, his thick arms flailing uselessly about him.

With the very popular mindset that ‘if I fits, I sits,’ Allure was not deterred by the amount of muscle she had to push around on her mother to barge her way in that distinct location – the one that offered prime warmth and protection. It was proving to be more and more difficult each day, and while she heard the gentle rumble of her mother’s voice, she remained oblivious to all else spare for the cold draft that was coming in to the den – and where she wanted to escape to.

Just as she was about to give a decent shove of her face right in to her mother’s armpit and try to squeeze her pudgy baby fat right in to place, she was attacked form behind – the unknown source all too familiar as her brother gave a good thumping to her muzzle and eliciting a sharp yelp from the baby who’s eyes snapped wide open just to catch him tumble. With a chuff, the bi-toned baby wiggled away from her mother’s grasp, her jaws seeking to latch on to Whit’s tail and pull with a vengeance.

He had backed right into his mother's awaiting arms, and one of her forelegs moved in front of him, creating a physical barrier between him and the outside world. She was prepared to seize him if he attempted an escape from the corral, but fortunately for Bazi her smallest son was content where he was, for now. He looked up at her as she spoke to him, then turned an ear to the sound of his siblings scuffling, but otherwise ignored them. His gaze returned to the storm, until the warmth emanating from his mother drew him in. He turned into her then and buried his face in the plush fur of her throat, and then leaned his entire body against her chest. He stayed here, content to cuddle. Day by day his coat was brightening, and soon it would be hard to distinguish his fur from her fur when he pressed close like this.

Exit Whit <3 Feel free to PP him being a useless lump for the remainder of the thread :D

Amidst the rampant flailing of his limbs, Whit felt a familiar tug at his tail that meant one of his siblings was out for blood. The boy squawked his objection for all to hear, but it didn't seem that anyone was overly concerned about it. It made sense since he'd spent most of his life thus far grumbling about one thing or another - it was a miracle that they hadn't given up on paying him any attention completely at that point. In any case, he quieted down after a minute or so as it became obvious that no one was going to save him from the tail thief, and thus his attention went off to figuring out what the hell else was happening around him.

Needless to say, Whittier wasn't entirely certain where it was he ended up by the time he was done with his squirming and grumbling. All he knew was that the wall of fluffy and milk dispensers was right where he liked it to be - right in front of his face. Ignoring whatever hub bub was around him, Whit settled in to suckle his fill for a bit before passing out for some nice rainy-time naps.

Concluding!

The boys settled, lulled by the hiss of rain and the heavy air - or perhaps they were just tired. It wasn't exactly difficult to get Whittier to agree to a nap, and Swift exhausted himself on a daily basis. None of them listed to her blahblah, of course, to young to understand what any of it meant. Bazi tucked them closer, seizing troublesome Allure and holding her in place with the weight of her thigh. With any luck, she would become distracted by boob and fall asleep. Outside, mother nature showed no sign of letting up.

The spot she wanted was a no-go – Bazi swooped in and maneuvered her away, and before she could even truly blink or grasp what had happened, Allure was pinned down by the weight of her mother’s thigh. She resisted squirming or any form of protest – instead, the girl released a gentle sigh, and allowed her eyes to slide shut, content in the sense that the warmth she reveled in now was that of her mother’s.. and the quiet had descended upon the den. Before long, her chest would rise and fall with sleep, and the only move she would make would be the twitch of her paw or lip as her dreams became very real.