Nova Peak black horse and the cherry tree

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Speaking of which, Raider knew the boys’ eyes would open any day now. Part of her would miss this helpless neonate phase, where @Riot, @Rowdy and @Ruckus relied on her to meet their every need. But it was incredible to watch them grow, resembling miniature wolves more every day.

Wonder if it’s going to rain, she murmured to herself as she poked her head out the dugout’s door. I hope your dad doesn’t get drenched, Raider added, swiveling to pad back toward the three whelps bobbling about on the den floor.

She eased down beside them, one foreleg crooked beneath her chest and her belly flush against the ground. It was only a matter of time before they begged to nurse, though the cool earthen floor was a nice reprieve for Raider’s chapping nips in the meantime.

It was not one big show, the opening of their eyes. At first, only a tiny little peephole revealed the pinprick of baby-blue eyes beneath. Gradually, over the next few days, that opening would grow and show the world the rest of their eyes. For now, Ruckus remained blind, somewhat deaf, and still a troublemaker.

They did not hesitate when the smell of milk and food came near, scrambling over their two brothers to get to what they wanted.

Ruckus came trundling over to her, affording Raider a view of his partially open eyes. Her mouth fell open before curling into a smile. She wondered just how much he could make out at this point and decided, Nothing much.

C’mere, lil’ boy, she crooned, stretching out a foreleg to try and pull him to her.

Even as the words left her mouth, thunder growled distantly outside. Raider’s ears flicked, though her attention remained on her son. That said, an idea struck her like—well, like lightning, which cast the den’s interior into sharp relief for a split second.

What if Ruckus wasn’t a boy? Just because he’d been born with male parts didn’t mean anything. Raider would know that better than anyone, not that she publicized her internal monologues on gender identity. She really wondered, though, and made an abrupt decision.

You can tell me when you’re older. For now, c’mere, lil’ one, Raider murmured, pressing her nose to the child’s temple.

They managed to swallow a healthy helping of dirt that clung to the teat they'd chosen, but it didn't bother Ruckus one bit. As long as the milk came with it, they were happy. The sensation of the large nose on their temple did nothing to discourage them from eating their fill, backing off only when their belly could hold no more. Even then, there was a decided lack of something, though they couldn't pinpoint what it was. Not quite hunger, but some sense of needing more than what was offered.

Ruckus contemplated this for all of two seconds before they decided the correct response was to begin howling a tiny cry for attention.

Ruckus latched onto her and Raider smiled through a tiny wince, muzzle still skimming over his their fuzzy little head. While they nursed, she cleaned their nearer ear and peppered their cheek with kisses. She caught a few stray droplets of milk, which was strangely tasty.

Raider glanced over at Riot and Rowdy for a moment, though her attention quickly returned to Ruckus when they detached and began to howl. She pushed into a sit, her touches now even tenderer than before as she nosed at them.

What’s the matter, Ruck? she fussed before guessing, Don’t like what you see?

Ruckus was unable to express exactly what they wanted, but they sure would try! They continued to howl and squirm, even as their mother nuzzled and cooed at them. This was not what they wanted, but they also had no idea what they wanted or how to get that across. Ah, the woes of being a puppy with very little in the ways of communication. The pitiful howls would likely have their siblings joining in by now, causing quite the loud symphony of noises in the small den. Until they got what they wanted, which was up to the much larger parent to figure out, they were going to continue their howling.

That is, until they grew too tired and passed out.

Raider did everything she could think to placate her baby, though she learned a rough lesson about motherhood that day: no matter how hard she tried, sometimes there was just no winning when it came to her young. By the time Ruckus and the others finally conked out, she was rather frazzled.

In fact, she stepped outside of the den into the downpour. She was drenched in an instant. Raider tipped her face toward the gloomy sky, eyes slitting against the onslaught. It was refreshing, exactly what she needed to soothe her nerves.

Raider stood outside for several moments, enjoying the last pulses of lightning and thunder in the distance, then stepped back inside to drip dry before joining her children.