Sawtooth Spire freeze! you with the pretzeled arms

@Wylla? @Mahler? either/both hi

mouthful of teat, phaedra glugged down more than just her fill of the ichor of gods as her pebbly toes kneaded against the warm skin of her dam’s belly, coaxing even more milkflow into her pot like it was a diminishing resource or something. often thrashing her head about while doing so, spiritually she def had her airpods in and was jamming out to some sick tunes.
if this continued, poor wylla would come out of this eight weeks later sporting tits like a spaniels ears. 
that was a tomorrow problem, and today, she would commence the routine of gorging herself until she crashed by way of milk coma ... which she did, often, but only in one or two hour intervals, and then she was back to acts of terrorism on those qualititties.
her obstacle in this bid for winning prize pig at the fair was thade, who already had the leading edge by being larger by default. phaedra’s only real advantage was her staying power, suctioning prowess which would give any shop vac a run for its money. her bro may have presided over her in terms of overall clout, but she had the fixings of an athlete when it came to accumulating mass. 
alas, the valley of her shoulders was still tender from days prior when honey i nerfed the kid first premiered, so any time thade began clambering over her back, in doing so he was trebling the constant ache to outright pain and she would delink from her station and impart a persecuted squall.  
it was becoming something of an ordeal. pups only days old couldn’t very well hear each other or deliver corrective nips, so shrieking was a recurring soundtrack in the den. all the cute little grunts and whimpers of newborns were eclipsed, and now was one such a occasion.
phaedra was happily grunting and mewing, in her own lane, going to town with her airpods in, when she felt pain sow her back as something (or someone) put pressure on her tender spot and the caterwauling began again.

the doktor had returned to cast a knowing eye over his tiniest patient once more. thade was not ignored, but given phaedra's particularly grueling entry into the word, mahler found it necessary to issue a good deal more attention to his daughter.
his daughter. astarte had been the only, and astarte was passed now. phaedra bore little resemblance to her sororal predecessor, and mahler was relieved. he wanted only for the dead to remain so, to keep from coursing their way into his dreams during the small fitful naps he took these days, wanting to be available for wylla at all times.
the little girl was displeased by the careful close of his jaws around her fattening body, and mahler smiled to hear her so vocal. he lay down upon his belly and placed her between the grizzled pads of his broad paws. "die milch muss warten," the gargoyle clucked, muzzle lowering to take her scent for any signs of infection, warm breath spilling over tiny chest and shoulders and limbs as he inspected the few inches of phaedra's round figure and then gathered her to his charcoal bosom.

beamed up into the UFO that was the gentle glove of her father’s maw, the girl paddled pitifully in the air against the effortless transport, mourning her departure from the beloved milk bar. 
resigned to this fate, the moonchild settled into the hamper of her father-doktor's paws for tending to, grizzling as he took stock of her wellbeing, and only loudly fussing if her shoulders were palpated. the tenderness there would subside in a week or so, but for now, any flare up was cause for dramatics. 
when he spoke to her, warm breath was strewn against her ticklish toes and belly and although it could explained away as passing gas, a smile briefly dimpled her cheeks. 
after her checkup was complete (um, don’t you usually get a sucker after these appointments?) and mahler gathered his daughter against his breast, she yawned fiercely with the threat of sleep tiptoeing in, but nein! sleep was for the dead! tolerating his cradling for some moments, she mouthed self-soothingly on her own paw and the sandman almost had her, til hiccups jostled her awake.
deciding he would make a better jungle gym for the time being anyway, she maneuvered his bosom with the speed and agility of an inchworm. another hic foiled her progress, trundling her down into his arms.
the assembly of smells coming from his mouth drew forth most of her curiosity—meat, perhaps perfumed herbs he'd recently accrued, his own distinct musk—so when when he came within reach she lipped at his whiskers and worked her pink gums against his chin, instinctively trying to latch onto it like she would a teat. (hey phone if u could stop autocorrecting teat to twat that’d be great thx)

her tiny jaws split tiredly, but with the energy bestowed only upon the truly young, phaedra was off again. mahler's lavender stare followed her lovingly; she had been in his life, in sagtannet, only a short while. but the little one and her brother thade had become the sum of the gargoyle's existence. he scarcely left the densite, knowing wintersbane would understand the demands of fatherhood.
at length, phaedra's delicate features lit with a babyish grin that caused his smile to tremble, if only for a moment. the heavy tectonic plates of his jawline shifted into an answering smile and he allowed her the exploration of his muzzle. a chuckle rumbled thunderous within the cavern of his chest at the ticklish clamp of her little mouth; mahler did not pull away, for soon phaedra would discover to her annoyance that he did not possess wylla's qualities, and certainly not from his chin.
"i vonder vhat you vill enjoy doing vhen you are older," the eisen mused aloud in common, more for the watchful motherly ear than his own benefit. he would have enjoyed to lapse into the old tongue and stay there, rear his son and daughter upon it first. but no matter. there would be time enough for that later.

feel free to fade us since she's useless <3 i'll make an AW thread to spice things up

unlike the embonpoint belly of her mother, this bristly “teat” was found lacking. no amount of kneading and clumsy grasping yielded what she sought, and although there was a sense of familiarity with the vibrations of his low rumbling voice and the vibrations that came from a hungered wylla’s grumbling stomach, not a driblet of milk could be coaxed from it. so, she gave up and found a new career as a spelunker. specifically, into the grotto of his great mouth. so many different smells, and no cranny within it too small for her to reconnoiter with the prying thrust of her nose. hmmm, said the dentist. no cavities as far as I can tell … she prodded at his canine teeth, and molars, and the black rimple of his gums. a man of overall superior dental health. might benefit from chewing a mint leaf after meals, and flossing, lest you continue getting microbes known as “infant daughteritis” stuck between your teeth. 
it was a miracle wylla hadn’t stirred from her slumber (probably in a coma of her own after nights of being shrieked awake or boob-abused) to find her child comically almost halfway down mahler’s throat. or as close as she could get, anyway, before she spat herself out as worlds biggest and cutest loogey in the dutiful ambit of the gargoyle’s leg with another hic.
always hiccuping, this one. (woe betide her! the unfortunate consequences of gluttony)
after a climb through the slate pastures of his ruff, and a slightly longer journey across his his hackles, she felt the heavy curtain of sleep drawing, with or without her compliance this time. huffing a grunt, the moteling gave up her expedition of crossing the eisen's mountainous terrain and clambered off his neck with grace a smidge less than that of a spider monkey, stumbling her way into the corral of his forelegs. 
sprawling out into a stretch, and with a squeak fit for a pip such as she, phaedra then curled herself 'round his paw and nuzzled her wrinkly face against its callused pad. presently, sleep finally tugged insistently at the peripherals of her consciousness, but she was a light sleeper (perhaps her soul was wary of the anchor and the sensations of sinking so deeply as before). her nose was kept active by the slew of interesting scents clinging to his feet. some identifiable, like the earth. others not yet inventoried, like ...
... fritos®? 

<3

mahler was quite enraptured.
phaedra's slow parade across the egypt of his figure enchanted the gargoyle. her pilgrim's progress had never been so blessed. secure in the weight of the hallowed moment, mahler watched his daughter nestle at the rendezvous point of his limbs and smiled as her baby body slipped beneath twilight.
"schlaf gut, kleiner honigbär," mahler whispered, scarcely daring to breathe nor stir for feline fear of stirring his tiny one to wakefulness once more. wylla did the majority of what phaedra and thade needed, and if he could aid her but a handful of moments, the gargoyle was eager to oblige.
therefore he remained as he was while phaedra sequestered herself beneath the embrace of naptime, gazing at the child with a softness that polished the edge of his lilac stare to a mere glow, perhaps of love, perhaps of tears, perhaps of both.