Dragoncrest Cliffs my salvation lies in your love

happy mother's day to @Thuringwethil and @Wildfire! Looking for anyone, really, though an @Artaax intrusion is more than welcome. <3

"Bug." She chirped as a beetle toddled by.

Blixen's first few words were simple. She wasn't yet to the point of complete sentences, or even full comprehension of the things she parroted, but they were sticking. One, two, sometimes three things at a time. Mama, Nomi, Artaa(x), bug, sun, warm, hung-y... hungry was a feeling she knew, but she was not so unfortunate a child that it pained her. She was well cared for in the heart of Drageda, with both the Commander and the Bandrona as her parents. Just recently her diet was beginning to be supplimented by pre-processed food, ergo, she was now familiar with just what the bigger wolves ate. She quite liked it more than milk, though milk was far easier to come by when she felt peckish.

Today she was laying outside the den and watching the birds above fuss with their nest, and the peeping children within. She was stringing together the thoughts and information provided to her from the sight. The peeping hatchlings would beg for food whenever one of their parents returned, and the parent would feed each child with whatever they'd brought back from the outside. The outside was an unknown that Blixen was wholeheartedly enamored with. She could see very well now that her eyes were fully developed, and beyond the immediate vicinity of their den lie a world full of wonder and mystery. Blixen wanted nothing more than to see it but any attempt at an escape was thwarted by whomever was appointed to babysit at the time, if it wasn't Nomi or mama. 

She huffed and put her head on her paws, feeling entirely bored with her current world.

Thuringwethil speaks with Tirgatao more and more these days. With the Nereides sudden end and Kendra’s death, she’s felt rather overwhelmed. What little moments she has to enjoy, and forget the world (something she battles with guilt against), is often spent with her children and her mate. They are growing more than she wants them to, more than she’s ready for, and they seem to change between each time she comes and goes.

A rabbit neatly picked clean is hanging from her mouth upon her return. They’d already destroyed one with the tugging and chewing and it’s time for them to have another. Soon, they’ll need their own each or they’ll grow out of them entirely, but for the time being she’s happy to give them enough to tear apart while they’re still little pudgy bundles of puppies. She drops the carcass on the ground nearly a foot from Blixen, lowering to the ground with a few sloppy kisses across her face.

To her absolute surprise, the dark form of her beloved nomi approaches the den with a prize dangling from her jaws. Blixen is on her feet in a second as soon as her mother drops the rabbit. She wiggles and whimpers excitedly as she is showered in messy kisses—they're her absolute favorite part of nomi, aside from the other favorite parts which is pretty much all of nomi. The affirmations of love between them are in the simple moments like this. She imagines her brothers are still sleeping soundly behind her, and she selfishly glad that she doesn't have to share Thuringwethil's attention for now.

She smushed her nose into the large wolf's cheek and bit her chin playfully in an instinctual desire to submit to her. "Nooo-wee." The little firebug sing-songed in her high-pitched toddler voice. "Nomi." She giggled, little ears flicking back as she looked upon her mother's broad face with a toothy smile.

The girl returns the affection and then some just as eagerly and soon, Thuringwethil lowers all the way to the ground. Her legs are folded neatly behind her, eyes glancing back to the den once to see if the others have been roused, but she’s content with sharing the gift with her daughter in the meantime. The boy won’t get to overshadow Blixen with their rambunctiousness all at once. She eventually pulls from the onslaught of kisses and pulls the bones close to her and encourages her to dig in and claim the best parts for herself.

Her swarthy mother joins her, curling her massive haunches beneath her and settling her dark form down upon the loam. Blixen noses her as she pulls away, and her attention is immediately diverted toward the carcass. It is nearly stripped, but there are still choice pieces of meat stuck fast to the bones—the scent of it makes her salivate. Blixen licks her lips and falls upon the rabbit with a soft noise of joy. She grinds her tiny milk teeth against the tough meat, and shears off a small, mangled bit of muscle. She gnaws on it, smacking her mouth together, while using her paws to manipulate the chunk in her mouth.

The young Goufa spits it out onto the top of her paw, stares down at it for a moment, before lapping it up again. For now, Nomi is forgotten in favor of these new flavors and textures.

As Blixen settles on the ground, too, and begins to chew upon her gift, Thuringwethil settles on the ground easy enough. She watches her daughter chew and tear off what little bit of meat has been left behind, spit out a little and gobble it back up, and a smile appears upon her face. The three of the puppies are growing quickly, exploring their new skills and the perimeters set before them. Her tail thumps on the ground a few times and out of the corner of her eyes she sees another blip of red in the distance. Robin has poked his head out from the mouth of the fallen redwood before (and not without a battle cry) he rushes up and collides into Blixen.

Blixen was so focused on the haunch that she didn't even notice her mother's attention drift to Robin until he was on top of her. Spurred by the instinct to protect what she now considered hers, she snarled, flashed her tiny milk teeth, and snapped at his face as he tussled with her ruff. Robin didn't immediately understand the intent behind Blixen's response until she sunk her sharp teeth into his shoulder, pinching the skin between her jaws, and shaking it back and forth with another savage, high-pitched, growl.

Robin does not waste time pouncing upon his sister, entangling his legs with Blixen’s. She reacts with a fierceness that lifts one eyebrow, quirking with interest. The fire that grows within her is something she knows she can mold. She settles closer to the ground and watches the two wrestle. Robin flops over on his back during the ruckus and Thuringwethil casually watches as they sort it out themselves.

When Robin falls, Blixen finds her feet and reliquishes her grip on his shoulder to find a better one. Her paw hits his chest awkwardly before sliding down to settle somewhere between his forelimb and his belly as she pins him firmly to the ground. With her frizzy hackles flared, and little stump of a tail arched above her back, she stares down hard at the charcoal-and-brick boy with another assertive growl. Though her prize lays on the slate beside them, it is not forgotten, and her coppery eyes briefly dance towards it to assure herself it was not lost in the tussle.

Thuringwethil settles in for the long haul, watching the two children rough around with one another. Teeth and claws come out but none of it is anything either can't handle with equally matched skill and weaponry. Robin started something he'll have to finish on his own, or let his sister take charge. Her ears swoop forward and the sounds increase but she doesn't let her slate eyes travel far, attentive to their every move.

wrapping up because ancient and Robin has a player now, woo!

Robin struggles beneath her, but Blixen's hold is firm for a child her age. She squares her stance, and further asserts herself with another growl. It does the job and, eventually, the boy submits beneath his smaller sibling and she steps aside to let him up. He looks at her from his place on the ground, seemingly bewhildered by her show of force, while she returns to her prize with a final warning rumble. 

Blixen curls around it and drapes one thick puppy limb over it protectively and resumed her exploration of the thing with mouth and nose.