Sun Mote Copse he coughs up foxes

Meerkat left The Taigh to go gather flowers to leave at @Asivaq’s doorstep. Skipjack didn’t notice her absence at first and kept busy scooting around the den with @Otter. He still couldn’t see well but whenever he came close enough, he could just make out his sister’s tail. He made a game of chasing and batting at it, until he grew tired of that—grew tired in general—and suddenly wanted to curl up beside his mother for a nap.

She was nowhere to be found! Skipjack sniffed his way toward the bright doorway of the family’s cottage, peering out at the blurry blue and green shapes beyond. He took a seat in the patch of sunlight on the dusty floor and stared outward expectantly, pudgy little body rocking slowly side to side. Any moment now, he knew Meerkat’s familiar face would fill the space.

Any… moment… now…

I couldn't not! <3

Little Otter and Skipjack were growing by the day. Reaching new, impressive little milestones in their development. And Nyssa's curiosity and wonder of them, was just as great as it had been on the day of their birth. She knew well enough that mothers and their newborns needed space. Time to feed, to rest and to bond. Even the most devoted of parents needed a break. Not that she knew personally. Only blurred experience as a tiny pup herself, under the care of her family.

When Meerkat slipped away, departing on business concerning their neighbors, the slate female noticed. There was nothing she felt that needed to be said as she slipped naturally into the role of a volunteer babysitter. She could offer the pups nothing in terms of food and they were far too young to play. 

Having kept herself at a small distance up until now, Nyssa wasn't confident on what her limits were with the new additions, if any. She was cautious, until she could be more certain. With the others likely to be handling their share of patrols or caching, she took up a post directly outside of the opening of the den. Far enough away not to be an intrusion, but close enough for a curious youngster. In the warm blotch of sunlight, she laid down and rolled on her back, basking contently. A gentle eye watching, darker tipped tail weaving sociably.

The sunbeam disappeared for a moment. Little Skipjack stood up on his wobbly legs, certain his mother was back. But then the light slanted back into the den and her familiar, muzzy features did not appear. The Bairn’s wiggling tail stilled and he whimpered under his breath. His nose twitched as he took one, two, three toddling steps nearer to the door.

He peeked outside for the first time. All he could see was a smear of colors and light. Not far from the den’s mouth, there was a shadowy figure sprawled on the ground. Skipjack’s nose kept twitching as he picked up a familiar scent. He did not move toward the blurry shape, though when he saw it shift, he made a questioning noise—somewhere between a growl and a whine—as his tiny tail began stirring once more.

Happy to have you!

<3!

Sprawled out on her back with soft rays of gold kissing the dark of her belly, Nyssa was the picture of utter and total relaxation. And she might really as well be in bliss. So far, she lived the good life here. All the wolves she knew were kind, warm and friendly. Made her feel like one of their own. Given her part of the family she had lost.

Perhaps Skipjack and Otter would extend to her that same honor. The boy seemed intrigued, creeping closer to the light to investigate. Why she was there and not his mother. She tipped her head to meet his eyes with hers, a gentle curve at her lips.

"Well well, look at you. You've gotten so big already, Skip!" She cooed in a low, soft welcoming voice. He and Otter would be too young to comprehend her speech, but they might appreciate the thrum of it anyways. Lazily, she raised a limp fore paw in a gently flopping wave. She stayed as she was, letting him choose to come to her on his own terms. "I hope I'm a good enough substitute for you, just until your Ma returns, hm."

The entire figure moved now, rather than one small part of it. Skipjack stared, slowly comprehending that he was looking at a fellow wolf. She spoke to him and his little head jerked, floppy ears twisting as if honing in on the sound of her voice. He stared at where he took her face to be, though he couldn’t make out her eyes or properly meet her gaze from where he stood.

He didn’t notice the subtle wave of her paw, the movement lost against the blurry black backdrop of her fur. But it didn’t matter. Her tone was invitation enough. He waddled toward her, body low and wriggling. She was only a few feet outside the den and Skipjack could hardly make out his surroundings, though the sense of spaciousness was almost overwhelming.

He tucked his face into the woman’s dark fur with a happy sound, then drew back to blink up where he knew her face would be. Up close, he could make out a pair of yellow eyes now, though her other features were little more than an inky smear. He didn’t need to see her face to recognize her; her scent was well-known to the little boy.