Sun Mote Copse me or her? HAHA! me or her?

maybe mr @Primrose Redhawk and if that tag dont work, @Wilthking !!!

 

Poor whoever was to the left of her. And then, the right. Q was having womb-dreams and felt the need to toss, turn, and flail out. Honestly, she could just be striking her mothers (or fathers) belly or foreleg... who could be sure? But no doubt that her space heaters felt her tossing and turning nonetheless. And it just didn't stop. For Q, nothing was amiss; she was just transported back to the good ol' days when, when she felt hungry, she kicked. Or when she felt any emotion in her mother that she liked, she also kicked. OR when she felt any emotion that was not savvy, she would kick ten times harder to give it the good ol' boot. 

At present, she was in the middle. Good womb dreams caused Q to toss and turn in relative silence... though she might be bothering Primrose or Alyx in the process. Oops.

As always, the peachy boy was the brunt of his sibling's emotions. Kicking, shoving, wiggling. He had felt the rough movement around him as far as he could remember, however it was much more irking now that he wasn't encased within his mothers womb. No. Now he was more exposed, and every kick and shove would send him wiggling free.

And Just as his sister kicked as a form on communication, Primrose found his in vocalizing. Loudly. He would whimper for everything, cry loudly, and wiggle about in reaction to just about everything.

Bath time? Cry
Hungry? Cry
Cold? Cry
Attention? Cry

So when he felt his sister's shoves he let out a high pitched cry and wiggled about, attempting to crawl around, which sadly only ended up in him laying over her.

Prim's crying was futile. 

Not because she didn't care, but because she didn't hear him. Q kept kicking along in her sleep whenever the desire to squirm came. It was just like she was in the womb, immersed in warmth and Alyx and Prim beside her. Which they both were. All was well as she imagined them all synchronized swimming up until someone left an inflatable in the wrong place and when it was time to come up to breathe, she found she couldn't. 

With a loud squall and a very angry revolt (excuse me???? who put this there????), Q's graceful kicks turned into that of a murderous rage. Freddy vs. Jason style. Q had never seen it, but she picked... whoever was stronger in that fight. Q had more than enough milk today where her energy reserves were a little higher, but it was likely ineffectual. Quetzal had no real strength after all. And her legs usefulness at this point was equivalent to that of aa ropeless skiing rope. What the hell did that even do? 

Hopefully, though, it was troublesome enough for Rosie to get the hell off of her!!!!

punch punch!

A small foot tapped his nose, and to his surprise, it hurt less than he knew. It was but a brush, a small nudge. But that wouldn't do. No! He was surprised, shaken!

So he cried more, paws flailing out and rapidly twitching as he attempted to blindly bat whoever had stuck their nasty paw up in his face. Perhaps if he was older he would feel bad for wailing on his sister fur such a small thing.

Sadly we wasnt older

It was a boxing match for the ages. Better than MacGregor or Mayweather ever could have been. Rosie was definitely breaking some rules though, was this allowed? Uhm, hello? She wanted to tap out, but couldn't. Which meant it was kangaroo time. With all of her impressive might (none at all), Q began to kick up (read: squirm heartily beneath him, as she hardly had that much control of her limbs) in an effort to remove him from her person at once!!!