Heron Lake Plateau Frontier whiskey

its on the bottle why not

Life so far was mostly just... wiggly.  Not a lot of noise, not a lot of complaints.  The world was warm but not as warm, dark but not as dark, and occasionally wiggly as well.  Mom moved, brother moved, and she moved.

It was thrilling, yeah?

Today she was feeling extra shifty, and this lent itself towards shoving against @Fig as she attempted to move to a neighboring spot against mom's flank.  Move bro.  Move.  I'm shifting here.

While Fen may have been bored with life, Fig - being the far superior and more interesting siblng - was not. He was intrigued by it. After all, he'd waited his entire existence to be a part of it, so why would he squander it by lying around like a newborn lump of a wolf pup while the world passed him by when he could do something completely flippin' amazing like wriggle and squeak and shit his pants?

C'mon people.

If there was one thing he had to complain about, it was his sister. She was always, like, being there. Like not just there, but like, there. Right where he was. And usually, fighting him to be literally where he was. It was super irritating, and even though Fig typically went out of his way to ensure that Fenn was directly beside him, he didn't appreciate her constant insistence that even that wasn't close enough.

Fig squealed indignantly when she once again attempted to overthrow him. More often than not, he just rolled over and let her have her way. It was really the easier thing to do. But this time, he was feeling just as feisty as she was behaving, so he whipped his little head about, spread his jaws wide, and attempted to eat her entire face.

Lucky for Fennec's face, her brother's teeth were completely nonexistent, so instead of eating it he ended up gumming her muzzle.  As the startling wetness hit her nose, she squeaked and then sneezed.  Right in his mouth.

Take that, you so deserved it.  Sister 1, brother 0.

Completely unfazed by this little setback, she pulled her head awkwardly sideways to try and escape the wet, then thrust both of her forepaws open with an increasingly adamant squeak!  She wanted to go THERE. K thanks.

I might be sober now, but I can still write like a drunk dangit

Damn. This didn't seem to be having the effect Fig was going for... His toothless gums mushed uselessly against Fenn's muzzle, and no matter how hard he willed his teeth to come shooting out so he could really show her what's up, they remained firmly nonexistent.

Damn again.

Then came the counterattack. Fig twitched and froze, deeply offended and bewildered by what his sister had just done to him. It was so unbelievably diabolical that he... well, he could hardly believe it! With a wild, enraged battle cry, the boy surged forward at the speed of deathly ill tortoises and barreled into her open arms. See how SHE liked being run over! Or... being squirmed against. Not quite enough agility yet for running things over.

Damn x3.

good! XD

Though it was probably a pretty pathetic view from above, a battle was waged on the ground between the two.  Fennec was bound and determined to get herself over, while Fig seemed determined to plow his own path through her.  Her little nub legs cycled and pushed, but his paw caught her in the face and she squealed in utter betrayal.  How dare he try and stop her!

There would probably be no help coming from their mother, but that didn't stop her from uttering a series of sharp squeaking wines about the indignities he was piling on her.  Meanwhile, her larger brother was able to roll her aside, her own tiny legs unequal to the task of contesting him.  Bastard!!

Fenn's cries of dismay fell on deaf ears. Like, literally. Fig's still deaf. But even if he had heard them, there's only about a 85% chance that he would've relented, which is indeed a high percentage, because he loves her, and probably would've been a little kinder had he any inkling of how mean she thought he was being. But again, deaf. So, mean little Fig.

He continued to waggle his arms against her, hesitating only briefly to take a moment to be stunned that this was actually accomplishing something for him. He was feeling mighty triumphant when the sister barrier began to give way and he was able to squirm on top of her. He stopped only when his squat little bean of a body was lying across her squat little bean of a body, at which point he lifted his head and cried out his victory. In his head, his voice echoed with the strength and ferocity of a lion's roar. In reality, it was a soft little coo that sounded more like he was feeling some gastrointestinal discomfort.

She continued to cry indignantly at this travesty as her brother climbed upon her, king of the mountain.  But once he arrived on top, her cries quieted.  This wasn't the worst thing in the world.  It was warm on the bottom of the pile and he stopped moving when he got up there, which meant she could maybe even go back to sleep.  Nevermind that moving in any capacity had been her idea in the first place.

Suddenly entirely unconcerned, Fenn delivered a big yawn, then nestled herself into the ground.  When she remembered that mom and food existed, there'd be a problem, but until then brother was just fine right where he was.

This was seriously awesome. Fig was elated by this feeling, this.. awesomeness that was coursing through his veins. He liked being on top (not in a dirty way--he's a wee bab still you creeps!). He liked being a winner, feeling victorious and triumphant. It was wonderful. He was definitely going to have to do more of this winning thing in the future.

His sister apparently did not share his rush of adrenaline-fueled glee. She yawned and snuggled into a little ball of sleepy puppy, unwittingly de-stabilizing Fig's throne and sending him slipping off onto the ground. He landed with his face and immediately burst into cries of outrage and just plain cries. He rolled to try and straighten his spine and wound up flat on his back with his little arm nubs waggling uselessly in the air.

This was seriously not awesome.

Aww, hey.  She was okay being rid of the weight of her brother, but him not being able to handle his shit meant she didn't have his warmth.  She'd liked that part!

Alrighttt, fine.  She uncurled and began to move, questing for him.  As she did, she found him, but.... by finding him, she got smacked in the face by one of his flailing paws.  Immediately she backed up and gave a little snort, followed by an indignant cry.  Owwww.

Fig was pretty certain that he was doomed at this point. No one seemed to be willing to roll him back onto his stomach where he could cause more trouble. It was as though they knew, or as though his mother was merely ignoring them as usual. It's a toss up.

Unfortunately, bashing Fenn in her face didn't help Fig right himself, however it did make him all the more determined to accomplish it. Problem was, he didn't really know how. Flapping his arms about didn't seem to be doing the trick, but maybe there was something else he could do. With a grunt, he began to wrench his head backward, arching his neck against the ground to rock himself to the side.

He looked absurd, but it did eventually work. After nearly breaking his neck (and his arms, for that matter), Fig found himself with the ground beneath him once again. Better yet, that feeling of triumph had returned, and with a happy trill, he moved to tackle his sister in celebration.

Fenn was in no way going back towards the thing that had just hit her, likely even if she had been able to hear his distress.  She could sense it was moving over there, her sibling, but remained where she was.  Quietly whimpering, because being bopped was so traumatic and terrible and how dare he.

But, as children do, pretty soon after the pain faded so did her attention to it, and by the time Fig tackled her, she was ready to playfully nom on an offered ear.  She had no teeth yet, only gums, but she used them enthusiastically as she craned her neck and got them around part of his little ear.

Fig giggled as he collided with his sister. He opened his jaws to meet hers, but missed and began gumming the air over her head. Meanwhile, she found an ear, and he knew his doom was upon him. He was in a great mood again though, so he was pretty okay with it. He squirmed against her and ended up on his side, using his little arms to punch/nudge her lightly in the tum.

I'm gonna wrap this bc we are gonna have all the threadsss

She giggled as his kicks and nudges found her ticklish side, but kept on gumming away as she squirmed.  This was pretty much how most of their play sessions went... chew on/poke/prod/sit on/repeat.  Life was pretty great, even with minimal parental interference.