Dragoncrest Cliffs i'd like to ask you out on the hottest of dates

Recently, ma and da wanted him to say more words. Specifically, they wanted him to say cute words, like "ma" and "da" and "Fish" and "Vix". Stingray was having none of it. He already had a favourite word that was quite effective, he didn't need any others.

Stingray used it as often as he could get away with, and did not hesitate to seize the opportunity when it came upon him once more. He was flinging a piece of seaweed back and forth, amused at the way it wrapped over the top of his muzzle and then slid wetly back to a dangle. He was mid-fling when an extra brazen gull who had been circling overhead for some time now saw its chance, swooped down, and snatched it right out of his mouth.

Stingray was speechless for a minute, but when he figured out just what had happened, he puffed up his round cheeks, feeling them grow hot with anger, and screamed, NOOOOOO! as loud as possible.

Gunnar had noticed the sea gulls circling a little more than usual today. He figured someone had something out that they wanted. He had always  had irritation for Gulls, they were disgusting birds, and loud. But they were part of the sea and the beaches so he had gotten used to them.

Gunnar was passing through the pack lands, when a loud and long uttered noooo was heard. He tilted his head and shifted his feet, nearing where he had heard it. He noticed a small pup there staring up at the gulls with abject anger. Gunner didn't approach to close stayed on the outskirts of where the pup was. HE settled to his rear, didn't stop into the Pups space. He wasn't sure how the parents would react, so he was staying as far away as he possible could while still being heard. 

What's the matter, young one? he chuffed gently. It had been years since he had been around pups, he couldn't even properly gauge how young this one was, and if it could even undersatnd him or speak.

Oh, if only he could fashion a lasso from his words and rope that cheeky gull back to him. Stingray learned a hard lesson in the otherworldliness and invincibility of birds that day. He kept his eyes locked furiously on the dastardly fiend even as it disappeared back into the flock. He might have stayed there all day burning holes in its back if not for a visitor.

Ray turned his glowering baby blues on the newcomer and blinked rapidly when he realized they were watering. He let his own rear hit the ground and slumped dejectedly. BAD! he shouted in response, turning another death stare up to the gulls above.

Gunnar looked up quietly trying to figure out what the youth had lost. But he couldn't see the same bird. Clearly it was something the child had been extremely pleased with. And as all things with the youth it could have been anything, a stick, a stone, a bone, even a piece of something.

Bad huh. Well maybe old Gunnar can help? Do you want me to see what I have hidden away, or we can play a game. Gunnar rapped his tail against the ground. Now near the child he could smell MeerKat on him.

He was one of hers, what were their names. Ah yes Stingray, Swordfish and Vixen, but what one was this. Stringray or Swordfish.

Watching them wheeling against the bright blue sky was little better than staring into the sun. Stingray had to tear his gaze away after a short time, and started when he realized the geezer was still there. He hadn't been paying any attention to what Gunnar said, but the tilt of his head was so on cue, it masked his preoccupation.

A lot of what was said went over Stingray's head. He wasn't stupid, but he wasn't acquiring language at quite the same pace as the average pup his age. Both Swordfish and Vixen could say more than him, and likely understood more than him, too. One would be hard-pressed to know it, between Fish's tendency to remain silent even though he could speak and Vixen's tendency to scream like a banshee in lieu of using her words, but Stingray was a little behind his siblings in that regard. A little ahead in the physical department to make up for it, perhaps.

His eyes snapped to Gunnar's tail when it whapped against the ground. He licked his nose, quivering with anticipation, and excitedly slapped the dirt with his own thin tail.

Gunnar wasn't certain the youth understood all he was saying. He was fast behind in the regard to what little ones could and couldn't do. And the memory was so foggy and cobwebbed, he wasn't certain if what he remembered of his own siblings was fact or fiction.

He did however, know how to play. It had been some years and he wasn't near as spry as he had been, once upon a time, but he could probably do a few turns about the yard. Maybe chase the pup and get chased, as long as they stayed within the confines. Yes he could try. Worse came to worse he's just be in pain when he woke up in the  morning.

So Gunnar stood on weakened paws, though they still held strength it wasn't what had been there years ago, and he went into a play bow, his tail sweeping behind him.

Now there was a language Stingray could appreciate!

Restraint wasn’t his forte, so all it took was Gunnar getting to his feet for Ray’s excitement to bubble over. With a challenging growl, the same sort he used when Vixen was getting a little too rowdy or when Swordfish was being a little too boring, Stingray rushed the older wolf. With his siblings, it was easy to go for the nape or the snout because they were the same size, but with adults, his tactics differed. He had learned.

It was Gunnar’s paw that Stingray targeted, diving for the sandy toes with snapping jaws. There wasn’t a whole lot of restraint there, either. Bite inhibition did not come naturally to such a brash pup.

Gunnar couldn't stop the laugh that fell from his sandy maw at the growl of the child. The youth didn't waste a minute and jumped at him with no holes barred. Gunnar wasn't sure where he was going to hit, but he knew he would find out soon enough.

And he did. The youth went straight for his paw. Sharp pinpricks of teeth digging into the soft pad of his footpaw. Gunnar shifted and jabbed gently at the child's side with the paw the child wasn't currently chewing upon.

After that if the child would release him, he'd bat at him with another paw. And continue up this ring around.

As always, Stingray was proud when his teeth found their target, and as always, he lacked an awareness for the rest of his body or what was going on around him. He zeroed in on his success and, in so doing, left himself open to retaliation.

Gunnar's jab came as a surprise. Ray instantly released his hold on the paw and coiled toward the newest enemy, but Gunnar was already moving again. Another tickling punch to his side had him bucking back around to the first paw with his jaws agape and eyes rolling with determination.

There was a whining growl pouring from his throat as he lurched for the man's toes again, having not yet learned his lesson about always knowing his surroundings.

Gunnar watched the small puff of pride that lit up the youths face, his tail puffed behind him. Ah to be young and proud again. Not worrying of anything, reveling in the small things.

Gunnar chuckled quietly. As he did the sides. And then switched up to jab the boys hindleg, then back to his shoulder.

Gunnar let loose a low playful growl. Careful not to frighten the boy..

Hope you don't mind me wrapping here, I have bad whelmies and am trying to close out a few threads!

As it turns out, Stingray was happy to play with anyone, but was a rather sore loser. He often won against his siblings — Swordfish was too lackadaisical to worry much about winning, and Vixen went hard, but Stingray went harder at least half the time — and his parents often let him win. The combination engendered an unfortunate expectation that he would win most of the time.

Ray knew what should happen: he was supposed to catch Gunnar's foot, and then be praised for his strength. Being prodded multiple times didn't factor into his winning scenario. When Gunnar jabbed his hindleg and made him twist around only to snap at air again, Stingray grew frustrated. Another jab at his shoulder, another twist, another failed grab, and it turned to anger.

He broke away from the adult with a sullen little growl and ducked back into the den, no longer interested in either the game or the gulls that had stolen his seaweed. Playing was no fun when he wasn't the winner.

Not at all <3 Thank you for the thread.

Gunnar watched the youth go, a small smile on his maw. He reminded him briefly of Mercury who had always wanted to win. Though that thought was tempered with sadness. He shook his pelt free and went back the way he had come. Though eh still wondered at what the Gull had taken from the boy, but that was a thing for the youth.