Redhawk Caldera Neverland

The afternoon passed peacefully enough. Peregrine was happy to say that none of the boys took after their older sister, who had been a banshee her first few weeks of life. They could be loud, at times, but so far, none had come close to shattering his eardrums. Nor had they proved particularly troublesome in other aspects, despite Hamburglar's snaggle tooth and the near-constant expulsion of bodily fluids and gasses.

Fox needed a break and the Alpha male nodded as she left, then turned his attention upon the four pups. Sometimes they fussed when their mother went away. For now, three of them remained asleep (or at least motionless) but the littlest of the bunch seemed squirmier. Peregrine bent over little Smol (@Peter), nosing along his back before giving the youngest's head a sloppy kiss.

ooc: 1, 2, 3, 4 .... 8, 9, 10! Eyes open? I guess? :D

Life had been pretty uneventful as of late - a little more than a week had passed, since the smallest cub of the litter had arrived in this world and learned the simple rules of existance. Eat, seek warmth, sleep and dream. However, if the dreams about the stars and outer space had been very vivid in the beginning then now every day a piece of these memories were lost, giving place to visions, wrapped in darkness - more felt than actually seen. 

Today the things were to change, because, just when his father licked him on the head, he squealed in protest for such a rude awakening, then fell silent. Eyes open to narrow slits and the tiny mouth agape - his very first gaze of the world was turned to the den's ceiling.

The pup emitted an indignant squeal and Peregrine smirked. He drew back, then canted his head when he saw the little bugger's eyes opening just a crack. This was not his first rodeo (more like his fourth), so the sight (pun intended) wasn't particularly novel. Still, he smiled fondly, glad to see that just because he was the youngest and smallest, Smol was still developing at a normal, healthy rate.

Although he knew Smol's vision would be fuzzy at best, Peregrine moved to loom over the little boy's face, grinning down at him with his lips closed (didn't want to frighten him with his big ol' canines). His tail waved behind him, stirring the cool, drafty air of the den.

The small cub did not know, what to make of the new sense - it didn't offer much in the dim light of the den and other than him being aware that - wow - he had eyes that he could move and that his lids just knew, when to close and open. He let out a gurgling sigh and squirmed a bit to make himself comfortable, while lying on his back, sandwiched between his siblings. 

Then - all of a sudden the seren landscape change and something big and dark came in the view. He didn't know yet, what fear was, but the instinct to freeze on the spot, close his eyes and hope that the shadow that made him feel uncomfortable would go away. Seconds passed and became minutes, he could not help but open his eyes again to find out, whether the shadow was still there.

Unfortunately for the tiny tyke, Peregrine didn't move, except to slowly lower his whole body to the cold earthen floor. His face remained precariously close to the pup's, likely taking up his entire and limited field of vision. But, of course, the Alpha male would never harm his son. Trusting that Smol would quickly learn that, Peregrine pushed his lips into an o and blew softly, his warm breath washing over the youngster's squished pug face.

The cub had intended to wait for a little longer, but the curiosity won over and there he was, staring at the big world above with the shadow still looming over him. What was more, he suddenly felt a gust of warm and humid wind blown directly in his face, therefore he sneezed - a small attempt to fight back. "A-choo!" and after this came another one, and another one. Then he felt like it was quite enough of this air blowing, deciding that it was a good time to stretch his feet and move a little. However this attempt failed - the lack of proportions between his thin and feeble legs and rotund body made him roll on his back. Recognizing the trouble he was in - once again - the boy squeaked.

A little sneeze exploded from Smol, then another and another. Peregrine turned slightly, though much of the spray hit him square on the cheek. "I s'pose I deserved that," he murmured with a chortle, slowly turning to face Smol when the fit appeared to be over. He discovered his smallest son had gone topsy-turvy somehow. His lips curved at the youngster's squawk.

"Do you even realize you're upside-down?" he wondered even as Peregrine nudged the pup in the ribs, trying to get him to roll over upright.

Usually the milk tank was quite practical about Smol's troubles - she simply picked him up and put him in the right position. This guy was nowhere near as good, rather than helping, he simply shoved him in the ribs."Eeeep!" he squeaked, made a half-roll in the right direction and then fell back again. Not only that, the tickle in his nose began and he knew, what was coming. Another fit of sneezes: "Achoo, achoo, achoooooo!"

The prodding didn't help much at all. Just as Peregrine opened his mouth to lift the pup and right him himself, Smol exploded into another round of sneezes. The father's amused smirk crinkled into a slight frown. "You're not getting sick, are you?" he asked in a slightly tight voice. He thought of "Derp." Even though his pale firstborn son hadn't fallen victim to an illness, the memory of his death still lingered in the father's head, especially when it came to Smol.

Hopefully if he did catch a cold, it wouldn't be anything fatal. In the meantime, Peregrine made a point to scrub his tongue over the runty infant's face, concentrating on his nose. His tongue was much too large and broad to fit into the puppy's nostrils, else Peregrine would have undoubtedly attempted to clear them for him. It was no worse than cleaning up any other bodily fluid anyhow.

The itch in the nose ceased and the runt of the litter sighed in relief, licking his lips few times and thinking that perhaps a small meal wouldn't hurt and a nice nap afterwards, when he was attacked once again. His father probably meant well, but his swipes of the tongue weren't as expert as those of the milk tank's - being a sensitive boy he was - he could imediately tell the difference. He would have cried, had it not been for the wet tongue that muffled his attempts to let any sounds out of his mouth. So rather than going for "ao...aohu...aouh..." what he managed to blurt out was: "MRhmph... mrrphouu... mrhmph..."

The littlest puppy grunted in response to his father's ministrations, yet Peregrine did not relent until he was satisfied that Smol's nose was as clean and clear and under control as it could get. Sensing the discomfited whelp could use the comfort of his mother's warmth and milk, the Alpha male then closed his jaws ever so gently around Smol's midriff and airlifted him to Fox's side. He tucked the runt against her, trying not to think of the possibility of her squishing him, and then sat back to make sure Smol was really done sneezing.

"Wump," the cub blurted out, once his father was done cleaning his nose. Then, as if mimicking his actions, he stuck his little tongue out too and touched his nose. "Rmph..." he growled, when he was lifted in the air and moved somewhere - he flailed his feet, frustrated by his own helplesness and the utter rudeness of this big black shadow, ready to protest again, when... he realized that he was back to, where he was supposed to be - by his mother's side. He sighed in relief and busied himself with eating. Once the rest of the gang were awake, he would not have such a good chance to feed as now. 


ooc: last post from me, but we can have a new one?

'Course. :)

The tiny pup began to eat and went several minutes without sneezing, so Peregrine settled back with a sigh. He kept an eye on Smol, nonetheless, suddenly reminded of the day when Hawkeye had stepped in to nurse Saena and Pura alongside Tytonidae and Osprey Jr. The new arrivals had been so much smaller, prompting him to occasionally ferret the older girls out of the den to give the littler pups a chance to feed unhindered. The father would do the same for Smol if it became necessary, though he seemed to be doing well enough capitalizing on moments like this, when his competition slumbered.

Lips twitching into a smile—small but mighty, he thought toward his youngest son—Peregrine folded himself down beside Fox, who had apparently magically reappeared at some point in this thread (oops) and simply enjoyed the moment.