Neverwinter Forest and mouth like a pomegranate

at the feel of something ( a nose, asmoses would come to learn ) brush against the downy fur at the top of his head; warm, leathery and kinda wet, asmoses lets out a curious chirrup as if to ask what is this — a question he would ask much when he learned how to speak and begun to explore the world around him as it expanded. for now, he is easily and helplessly thwarted by the limitations of his weak sense of smell and taste, and the sense of touch.

he lets out a series of grunts of effort as he pushes himself in an army crawl in the dirt only managing to wiggle a few inches before his energy is spent. depleted and suddenly overcome with fierce hunger he latches greedily onto the nearest teat — that took some merciless pokes of his nose to find ( sorry mama! ) — and suckles.