Sun Mote Copse two little frogs

Njord enjoyed domestic life as their new additions grew like little weeds. @Otter and @Skipjack were already five weeks old and became more active by the day.

The Copse’s Laird arrived at the Taigh with a new play-thing for the bairns: the haunch of a large hair with its white cotton tail still intact. Between the fur, the sinew, and bone, Njord thought it would make for a fine sensory object.

“Hullo wee ones. Da’s brought you a surprise,” Njord announced as he relieved their latest babysitter of their duties. He was thankful to have such a close-knit family for support – it truly made everything easier.

He listened attentively to grandma’s story, even though he could hardly comprehend a word of it. Skipjack enjoyed her distinct voice. It soothed him more than any other. It really didn’t matter what she was saying.

But the instant he heard his da’s familiar brogue, he hopped up to greet Njord. He writhed up to his father, jumping up to kiss his chin with impressive precision considering his visual impairment.

Although he couldn’t see what the Laird had brought, Skip could certainly smell it. One little paw brushed the slain rabbit and his attention quickly shifted to it to examining it with the senses he did possess. He was quite taken with the tuft of downy soft fur he discovered.

Otter quickly abandoned Towhee and Skipjack when she heard Njord's voice. She turned towards him and stood, her eyes bright and her smile large, as she watched him approach with something in his mouth. When she recognized the object—fur!—her tail began to wag, and she toddled to greet him.

Dadadadada! Otter babbled as she stood in front of Njord. When her babbles subsided, the little girl reared and reached for her father's chest, hoping he'd wrap her into a hug.

Son and daughter greeted Njord exuberantly like little, plump, and fuzzy jumping beans. “Skip! Otter!” he said with a hearty laugh as he nuzzled them both.

“Och, did ye grow again while Ah was away huntin’?” Njord remarked. “Soon you’ll be big as me!” The father wrapped one paw around each bairn for a hug.

Then, he placed the haunch on the ground for the kids. “What d’ya ken, hmm?” he asked. It was always fun to watch the littles interact with something novel.

Meerkat had pointed out her suspicions regarding Skipjack’s sight… but it was difficult for Njord to tell his level of visual impairment… or if he had any impairment at all! His son was resilient and adaptable and made good use of his other senses.

He paid little attention to his father and his sister for the moment, focused on his new finding. The soft furs tickled his nose, bringing about a few token sneezes. Skipjack then did what any baby would do in his situation, sighted or not: he put it in his mouth.

Now that soft thatch tickled the roof of his mouth! The bairn wriggled at the sensation, though his saliva quickly relieved it. He munched on the downy texture for a moment before deciding it didn’t do much for him. He spat it out, now bedraggled and soaked in baby spit.

Da! he declared then, for no particular reason than because Skip wanted to.

Och—what a strange noise! Although she'd heard 'Da say it before, something about how he said it this time caught her attention. Ooooo, she cooed in reply as Njord pulled them both into an embrace, trying to mimic what he'd said.

When he placed the fur on the ground, she dismounted from their hug and turned her attention to it. OoooooCH! she exclaimed as she examined it with a tilted head, simply looking at it for the time being.

Njord and Meerkat’s children were wee hunters!

With a whopping dose of curiosity, they investigated the rabbit’s haunch. It was interesting to watch his sighted daughter observe it first, while Skipjack smelled, touched, and tasted it.

Then, Otter’s addition of och to her jargon made Njord chuckle.

“Do ye like it?” Njord asked as if they were old enough to speak. “S’called rrrrrabbit,” he added with an extended roll of his r’s, which sounded like a snare’s drumroll.

“They’re swift ones, they are. Tricksters. Soon, you’ll be able tae catch ‘em.” Njord used his teeth to pinch one end of the leg and gave it small little jerks to make it look alive!

Now his attention shifted to his father and sister, ears quivering as he listened to their exchange. Njord’s brogue was second only to Towhee’s droll tone. Skip wiggled happily, tail whipping back and forth.

Dock! he exclaimed, wanting to be part of the conversation, adding something that was more of a sound than a word: Rrrrr!

He didn’t notice when his da pinched the haunch in his teeth and made it bounce, at least until he sensed a flutter in the air. The little bairn went still, nose twitching, and then blindly charged where he sensed movement. He missed entirely, like a toreador’s red cape eluding a bull.

Rabbit—Otter knew she'd heard that word before. Rrrrrrrrrrr, she mimicked, focusing hard on the pelt as she tried her best to get the word out. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrab—buhbuhbuh. Maybe next time she'd get it.

Njord then shook the pelt, bringing life to the lifeless object, and seeing it move stirred something within the little girl. Her eyes grew wide, and she instinctively slunk to the ground. Skipjack was the first to move, and she watched as he attempted to tackle the object.

When it was Otter's turn to make an attempt, she shook her little booty and then pounced, aiming for the nearest tendril of fur. She missed the mark like her brother and landed on the floor with an oof.

Skipjack and Otter had no shortage of enthusiasm as their hunting instincts kicked in. Njord could see his son’s nose working as he tried to zero in on his target. Then, he took a literal leap of faith. The father couldn’t help but become inspired by Skip’s tenacity. Good effort! he thought.

Otter, on the other hand, displayed an instinctual stalking instinct. She didn’t throw herself with wild abandon, like her brother. It was obvious to Njord that Otter used her sight, but at their young age, despite their differences, it didn’t necessarily give her an upper hand.

"Close one, my wee hunters!" Njord encouraged between his teeth. Then, to meet the puppies where they were at, he made the movements smaller to hopefully give them an opportunity for a successful pounce.

He felt a moment’s despair at his failure, though Skip quickly overcame it. Spinning so quickly he nearly lost his balance, the boy went rigid to hone in on the sound of the haunch swinging in the air. His little ears moved like little satellite dishes.

WHEE! he echoed da, seconds before leaping forward and swinging a paw.

He nearly missed again, though he felt the telltale sensation of fur brushing against his foreleg. Skipjack quickly seized on this opportunity, both forelegs thrusting out to grasp at the piece of flesh and fur he couldn’t see. He most certainly felt it as he hung onto it, now evoking Tarzan swinging on a vine.

Skipjack was the first one to pounce. Otter watched as her brother sprang to action, and she straightened, feeling slighted by it; her heart was on her sleeve, and she frowned deeply. Still, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to interfere with his effort. So, instead, she took a step back and stuck to their Da's side, pouting as she watched him have all the fun.

Undeterred Skipjack pounced again! This time he managed to grab hold with his arms, holding on like a jungle man. Amused by little Skip’s antics, Njord swayed the piece of rabbit to and fro (lightly!).

Otter, on the other hand, became reticent and held back. Though she pouted, Njord thought it was quite nice of her to let her brother have his moment.

Njord lowered Skip until he was just a hair’s height away from the ground, before “dropping” him. Njord pretended to fall backwards, rocking on his hocks.

“Och, Skip you’re strong! You pulled that rabbit clear outta my mouth!” Njord said as he feigned exasperation.

Then, he turned to his daughter. “Ah think he pulled a tooth out! Can you help yer Da take a look?” he asked, stopping down to Otter’s level.

He squealed when the skin jerked in his grip. He tightened it, then doubled down by latching his teeth into it too. Skipjack growled around the folds of fur in his mouth and tried to shake his head a little. As far as he could tell, this maneuver was what made it suddenly go limp beneath him, bairn and his prize flattening to the ground.

The laird sang his son’s praises and the puppy growled with savage glee, tiny milk teeth still held fast. But upon hearing the news about his da’s teeth, he quieted and unlatched his own. Unaware that Njord had been speaking mostly to Otter, he stumbled over the quarry in his haste to go to his father, nose bumping Njord’s foreleg.

Me hut da? Skipjack questioned, bottom lip wobbling as his heart squeezed in his chest.

Oh no! Da took a tumble! Otter watched as Njord stumbled backward. Once invited, she rushed to his side and began to poke and prod at him,  looking him over for any injuries. When it appeared he'd come out of the fall unscathed, she examined his mouth and found nothing out of place.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief and turned to her brother.

'Da okee, she assured her brother, seeing and feeling the remorse he expressed. Her expression softened; it was a simple accident, and she did not fault him. Skippy okee? she asked as she leaned towards him and began to sniff.