Dawnlark Plains and she's buying a stairway to heaven

@Radcliffe @Meadow @Padma

"Daddeeeeeee!" cried out Timberlake, his little brown stump of a tail wagging furiously as he charged out of the den to Shale, inches away from nipping at his ankles. The father in question laughed, rolling down onto his side and covering the boy in loving licks, eyes creased with joy. Timberlake's still-blue gaze blinked happily back, eyelids drooping as he gave into the warm caresses.

They were growing like weeds, getting bigger and taller every day. They had changed from brown and gray lumps without much personality to a quartet of individual souls, each with their own quirks and talents. Shale loved them all; even if you were to press him for a favorite, and swear you'd never tell a soul, he would never be able to come up with the answer. They were perfect, all four. They were his.

"Staying out of trouble?" he asked Timberlake, looking in mock sternness at the boy, who merely giggled, flopping over. Normally fairly stoic--he reminded Shale of Grayday, when they were this age--Timberlake had a case of the giggles today, and it made chuckles bubble up in Shale's own throat. Father and son laughed together for a while, over everything and nothing all at once.

All the while, his eyes strayed to the mouth of the den, hoping the others would take their guffaws as a cue to come out and play, as well.

Radcliffe lifted his tired head upon hearing someone shout. And huffed against the ground upon realizing it was his dad before standing up, his tail wagging behind him. He was still a bit tired, if it wasn't easy to tell by his half closed eyes and tired look about how he stumbled forth. And then he sat, barking at his father to get attention.

A chirping behind him caught his ear, and he turned to see the roly-poly form of Radcliffe, who'd toddled out of his den. Smiling, Shale belly-crawled toward him, giving the boy an affectionate barrage of licks and nuzzles before putting his muzzle on his paws, looking lovingly at his son. "Hey, kiddo," he said softly, his grin stretching the length of his mouth. "Wanna come play?"

Timberlake came up to join them, hopping along. "Yeah, play!" the eldest echoed Shale, before booping Radcliffe on the head with a forepaw, rolling over and hoping that he could get a wrestling match going. Shale rolled his eyes, watching his two boys. His gaze strayed toward the mouth of the den, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girls, as well.

Radcliffe let out a cry of surprise upon the barrage of licks. Then he stumbled forward once they were done, falling on his chin in front of his father. He huffed when Timberlake came round, and his tail got wagging right away and was booped. He cried out, this time out of excictement and tried getting up to play, to pounce.

Shale suppressed giggles as Radcliffe fell over--though, of course, he gave him a hasty check to make sure he was all right--before leaning back as Timberlake lunged toward his brother, taking the tawny boy down with a tackle. The father kept one eye on the goings-on while getting up, peering into the den before sitting a short distance away from the boys.

All seemed to be well. It had been a moon, and the entire quartet was happy and healthy, to his knowledge. Well-fed, at least. The best-fed pups in Teekon, he'd wager. He'd sure been busting his ass to make sure of that; he'd hate for it to be any other way. Grinning, he egged the action on, dipping into a play bow and wagging his tail.

"Come on, Cliffey," he cheered his younger son, his eyes shining in bright contrast against the pale, angular lines of his face. "Knock him on his butt."

Radcliffe leaned up, then was once more taken down by his brother. He growled, trying to nip back tlo get him down. Radcliffe tried pushing with his paws, trying to push Timber back onto his butt just as his father egged him on to do. Yipping and pushing and nipping.

Timberlake flicked an irritated ear toward his father, hearing how he sided with Cliffey and not with him. The sturdy little ball of chocolate fuzz continued his assault, twisting, trying to pin Radcliffe to the ground. The younger brother was persistent, though, and Timberlake was surprised. Behind him, he heard Shale laugh, delight in his voice.

Shale, for his part, was merely a spectator; he wouldn't intervene unless needed. After all, boys were boys. Rough and tumble. And Padma was right there with them, long-legged and strong. He was a little surprised she hadn't joined the game, but perhaps she would make a late entrance. Meadow was sweet like her mother--but sweetness didn't necessarily mean a lack of vigor. She was just as strong as the others.

God, they were perfect! He couldn't stop thinking about it. How the gods had seen fit to bless him once more, after the catastrophe that was his past. He knew others were not as fortunate. Some fell, and never got up again. He didn't know what he had done to deserve all of this.

Rad looked up at his father as he let out a yelp from the pinning. He suddenly didn't like it, trying to kick the other off. He made small sounds, giving in. Wanting out of it now, not liking to be under and pinned down. It was not a nice feeling at all to him.

Radcliffe squealed and struggled, and finally Shale found it right to intervene, nudging Timberlake until the boy rolled over in a heap of dark fur. "All right, kiddo, that's enough," he said, the slightest edge of sternness to his voice. "You won--you don't need to rub it in. Leave off Cliffey for a bit and come tackle me instead."

The oldest boy looked perturbed by the intrusion for a moment, whining, but soon was content to pounce on Shale's tail and wrestle with it instead. While his son treated him like a chew toy, Shale turned his attention to Radcliffe once more, running his tongue in a soothing fashion over the pup's downy golden head. He was warm and smelled of earthy things--sod, milk, and Pema, with the hint of greenery that always clung to her pelt.

"You're okay, bud," he whispered, nuzzling his second son. "I've got your back. Don't worry." He flopped down to be at eye level with Radcliffe, ignoring Timberlake--for now--as he clambered onto his back haunch. Cliffey was awfully quiet, not much in the way of words. Shale wondered if he spoke much at all. "What's on your mind, kid?"

Radcliffe stopped once the other was off him. Then gave a quiet adorable sound as Shale ran over a tongue, soothing the boy over. He nuzzled up against Shale, stumbling over till he was at his paws and nuzzled up against his legs, just sitting on Shale's paws. And just murmured noises. "D-Da...." He murmured quietly, rubning his face fur up and down his legs.

Sweet boy. He pulled Radcliffe into his embrace, heart melting like ice in March as the little guy said his name--or, at least, his name to his children. Da. And Timberlake had called him Daddy. No one had ever called him those names before. Jack and Liam, Dove, Poppy. . .they had all died before speech. It was something that filled him with awe, and his eyes welled with tears; he shut his lids to dam them, lest they spill over and dampen his son's fur.

"I love you, Cliffey," Shale murmured. "Love you, Daddy!" Timberlake cried out, having made his way to the front of him, nuzzling in beside Radcliffe (and behaving, for once). "I love you, Timmy." Shale grinned, cuddling them both together. He would take heart in this golden moment, where they laid together without fighting.

But it was only puppy wrestling, after all. He hoped they would grow to be as close as him and Day, someday. He saw a lot of his brother in his eldest son--bravery, tenacity--and a lot of himself in Radcliffe, the sweet, reserved second child.

Radcliffe, one could swear he was smiling. His little tail wagging. He felt rather proud. "Da...Da" he murmured quietly, eyes closed as he nuzzled against his father. The little tail thumping against the ground. The play fight, it had exhausted him and he slowly slid against his father's legs to the ground, laying on his paws.