Stavanger Bay everyone would like to learn

open to siblings, parents, anyone looking to earn the caregiver trade and/or would be realistically allowed inside the den! :-)

quellcrist wakes with a start. she doesn't dream of anything, not really, despite the frequency of her naps. life outside the womb thus far is pretty unexciting and boring ( can she get a refund? ). she can't see. can't really move aside from kicking and rolling her head which is too heavy to hold up for long measures of time, and a slow army crawl which takes more energy than it's worth. the only things she really enjoys so far are eating, getting baths and sometimes if she can maintain the energy to actually accomplish it, crawling over the other puptatoes. mostly, this is curiosity that she doesn't recognize as curiosity. her concept of feelings is as abstract as her concept of time. it doesn't exist yet besides the rumbling of her tummy which her instincts are training her to know means she's hungry and she should probably do something about it.

she's discovered, though, that she can kinda smell things. her sense of smell is yet far from keen but she's begun to recognize her parents and the other puptatoes by their smells. which was the most exciting thing to happen to her yet. quellcrist begins to blindly crawl away from the wall of fur she's pressed against and lets out a small huff a few seconds later when she's crawled a few inches away and lost all the energy she'd had. yeah. being a newborn sucked and she was definitely asking for that refund.

His first days of life had been content, but it wasn't hard to feel that way when all he ever wanted was to eat and sleep. Today had been like the few others before it, and he had filled his round belly to its max and then promptly fell asleep. But he was soon woken by movement--the movement of one of familiar forms with whom he shared his food and accommodations. He felt her brush up against him and then she was gone, so of course he followed, interested in what she might be going for. Maybe it was more food? He maneuvered his round body on weak legs, paddling against the ground until he bumped into her. A startled squeak left his mouth at the collision, and he began rooting around on her, searching for whatever had drawn her away from the warmth.

with her energy siphoned from her she is left to slump against the earth and pout as she waited for some of it to come back to her. she only needed enough to give up and turn back; though her surrender would only be temporary because it was evidently necessary according to her jello limbs and fat head that was far too heavy for her neck. quell was in the process of drifting in and out of light sleep despite that barely seconds passed since her energy was spent when one of the other puptatoes bumps into her. she lets out a noise of surprise of her own, a warbling mixture of surprise and annoyance. hmph. that turns to an outright pitch of protest as the other puptato begins to poke at her. quell kicks — or attempts to, there isn't much power ( if any ) in the gesture — at the fellow puptato with a jello limb in rather feeble protest.

She began to cry out in response to his presence, her limbs wiggling next to him. What were they doing here? There didn't seem to be any good reason for it. There was no food and no warmth, and now he was kind of turned around and unable to figure out his position in the world. He tried to turn around, hoping to figure out the way he had come from, but the other little form was in his way, and he couldn't get his fat little legs to move past her. A shrill cry left him to echo through the air. He was quickly losing energy, and he didn't know what else to do other than vocalize his displeasure.