Redhawk Caldera it rained on your parade

For @Wildfire, @Raven, or @Nightjar. :)

She had begun to feel stifled. True, it hadn't been that long. The pups had been around four, maybe five, days at this point, and there was really no reason for her to get cabin fever... yet she did. Fox made excuses to leave the kids with Peregrine, claiming she needed a drink, a chance to stretch her legs, or room to eat. They were completely valid claims, of course, but Fox felt like she was somehow cheating the system every time she took a break from nursing and keeping the kids warm. And the cleaning. Constant, never-ending cleaning.

One of them was currently vocalizing something fierce, and Fox gritted her teeth. If she hadn't thought that Peregrine was nearby, she would have yelled at the damn thing. Damn-near shaking, she pulled the little one close and set it between her front legs, her rough tongue going over the small body a bit too vigorously. The others were strewn about the den floor, sleeping, writhing, or shitting themselves.

Wildfire, as usual, was the culprit. One day, her little ears would open and she would get to experience her ruckus firsthand. That would likely get her to shut the fuck up. For now, she wasn't aware of the way her endless squeals, squawks and screams assaulted the adults' ears. She was demanding in that way, always voicing her displeasure and making sure everyone knew she was awake and (un)happy about something or other.

Just now, she was busy squalling indignantly at whoever it was that had just bitten her foot. Teeth clipped her scruff, lifting her clear of the floor (and the biter). Wildfire made a hmph! nose with her puny nostrils, then grunted when she was settled between Fox's forelegs. As her mother's tongue began to press roughly against and over her tiny body, she squirmed. She usually didn't mind this part but the pressure was uncomfortable this time. Rather than cry out, she uttered a heartbreaking whimper of discomfort bordering on distress.

I promise she won't hate her babies forever. <__<

The pup squirmed, causing Fox to place a paw to keep her in place. Her ears slicked back with annoyance as she continued to groom the pup, using a paw to turn her over and continue on the other side. Fox ignored the wimpers. This one was so loud and whiny she wondered if there was any way to keep her quiet. The only time she wasn't screaming her stupid little potato head off was when she had a teat in her mouth (or a toe, depending on the situation). Fox could have sworn the girl never slept.

Satisfied with Wildfire's cleanliness, she picked her up again, this time putting her near the food source and hoping she might stick a nipple in her mouth and for the love of nature quit her whining. At least the other three were quiet most of the time, even if they did have their annoying habits. All four of them had managed to suckle her so hard it was painful at times.

No matter how much she whined and complained, the rough grooming did not stop or even slow. When Fox flipped her onto her back, Wildfire cried out shrilly, then fell to continuous whimpering. It was her first taste of pain and she didn't like it one bit.

Before her mother could do any permanent (physical, mental or emotional) damage, she plucked up the freshly washed puppy and placed her at her belly. Wildfire was too young to resist the instinctual need to feed, so as soon as she smelled milk, she sought a nipple and—she didn't so much latch as chomp onto it.

The pup did what she wanted, kind of, and Fox winced as the girl aggressively began suckling her with reckless abandon. “Suppose it’s what I deserve,” she mumbled, even though flashes of what she wanted to do ran through her mind. How far could a puppy fly? How much pressure could their skulls take? If she rolled over, would their lives simply cease to exist? The questions, and others like them, continued to brew in her mind, uncertain.

A squirming one was heading toward her, and Fox put her chin on the ground so they were nose-to-nose. It was the smallest one, one who had not yet been named. It "booped" her nose, and she breathed in its face. Its squashed nose recoiled and Fox sighed. “Why don’t I love you?” she asked it aloud, glad that it couldn't hear her words, much less understand them.

As she nursed, the memory of pain evaporated. Wildfire knew only warmth, comfort and food—the essences of life for a pup her age. She drank her fill, then unlatched with a tiny pop! and pushed herself backward with a flail of her little forelimbs. She hiccuped and burped (hiccaburped?) simultaneously, then began scooting along the den floor.

Without realizing it, she headed toward her mother's anterior, making a (slow) beeline toward the puppy affectionately known as Derp. When she bumped into him abruptly, her nose smashed into his birdlike shoulder blade, causing her to sneeze. A spray of saliva burst from the tip of her tiny snout, as well as a rope of snot which clung to his nearer ear, creating a sticky, gooey rope between them.

The little red one detached herself, and though Fox braced herself for more squalling, none came. She breathed a sigh of relief, causing the little cream one to yawn. What an odd effect. Her stone-grey eyes watched (though her head remained still) as Wildfire crashed right into her brother, subsequently spraying a snot line between them. Another sigh slipped from Fox's muzzle, and she did her duty (more gently, this time). Cleaning Wildfire's face and the cream one's body.

The runt had soiled himself at some point, and Fox cleaned that up, too. Finally satisfied with his sanitation, she picked him up and plopped him down near her belly, scooting him toward the milk source. Wildfire would, without a doubt, being screaming about this, and Fox fanned her ears back in anticipation of the sound.

The little Redleaf-DiSarinno couldn't see the rope of phlegm tethering her to her tiny older brother but she could feel it. It tickled. She wriggled her nose and felt another sneeze building, though a few more licks from her mother cleared away the snot and the sensation subsided. Wildfire's head wobbled as Fox eventually withdrew. She struck out a forelimb but felt nothing—not her mother, not her brother—but air.

Just as Fox predicted, Wildfire's mouth turned into a tiny "o" and she screamed, a noise that was filled with youthful angst and a touch of fear. On some instinctual level, little Wildfire understood that she was in danger—from predators, from the elements, from the world itself—when she was exposed like this.

Just read another thread in which Perry refers to Raven as "Derpina". LOL. I'm so using that. Tempted to change my account name to it until she's officially named. XD

In so many ways, the yet-unnamed charcoal girl -- jokingly referred to by her father as "Derpina" -- and her sister were a study in contrasts. Where Wildfire was flamboyantly colored, bright and vibrant as an autumn forest, Derpina was dark and sooty. As she grew and matured, her beauty would be far subtler than that of her elder sister. Where Wildfire was a ceaseless screaming machine, driving her poor parents nearly batshit with her endless litany of whimpers and wails, Derpina was silent...almost too silent. The only time she really squeaked or whimpered was when she was in physical distress, such as when Fox was a bit too rough with her or when one of her siblings squashed or bit her. Derpina also was not a very active cub, content to spend much of her day simply eating and sleeping. She was probably one of the easier kids to deal with, though there was never any such thing as a truly "easy" kid when it came to parenthood.

At that precise moment, Wildfire was screaming bloody murder but Derpina couldn't hear it. She could sense vibrations from movement and, to a lesser extent, from sounds; the only thing she was interested in right now, however, was food. Awakening from yet another nap, she pulled herself along on feeble, wobbly legs as she fumbled blindly for her mother's breast. Without realizing, though, she was heading straight for her sister -- and suddenly, she inadvertently bumped into Wildfire, sending both of them tumbling over.

Wildfire did exactly what was expected of her. Fox wondered if this was some kind of punishment for not loving them like she was supposed to. Did the girl somehow know her mother's thoughts? Little did she know Peregrine had thought something along these lines when he had named the mini spitfire. Maybe she was telepathic. In any case, the black one went barreling into Wildfire, which would surely set off yet another shitstorm of screams.

Not wishing to hear another round of that, Fox corralled both of them close to her side, hoping that maybe the warmth would quiet them. If not, she might just call for Peregrine and request a break from the little heathens dears.

When her sister bumped into her and sprawled nearby, Wildfire went quiet, relieved that she was no longer alone and exposed. She thrust her tiny snout into the air, trying to locate the other pup. The only sound she made was a low snuffling noise, which was muffled when she found Raven and buried her wrinkly face in the pup's sooty fur. She whimpered happily, tail giving a few spastic twitches.

Intuiting that it was only a matter of time before Wildfire began screeching again, Fox moved both girls closer to her belly. The slightly older of the two huffed and grunted at being shuffled about again. She felt a nipple poke her in the forehead but she growled at it. She wasn't hungry right at the moment (though she would probably be starving five minutes from now).

She was much more interested in playing with Raven—or whatever you wanted to call it when the barely mobile, blind and deaf potatoes interacted with one another. Head wobbling, Wildfire scooted along the den floor on her pale belly, swiftly finding Raven again and clamping her toothless gums around her little sister's tiny flap of a left ear.

The younger of the two girls lay there, like a lump of coal, for a moment after the tumble with her sister. Basic as her cognitive functions were, she was confused as to what had gotten in her way. She had been searching for her mother's teat...the teat had never knocked her over like that before. Had Fox suddenly grown boxing nips? A moment later, she sensed her mother's presence as Fox's scent washed over them and then her gentle arms were moving both of the girls closer to her body.

Scenting milk, and instinctively understanding that there was a nipple somewhere in the vicinity (sudden janet jackson flashbacks), the little blackbird began rooting around for it. However, her sister had other ideas -- suddenly a tiny pair of gums clamped, like a bear trap, on her ear and pulled downward. A tiny snarl buzzed in the blackbird's throat and she flailed about with clumsy paws in a hopelessly uncoordinated effort to punch her assailant.

Boxing nips, haha.

The two continued to fidget with one another, though they weren't screaming, which was a huge improvement. (Looking at you, Wildfire.) Convinced that they would be quiet for at least a little bit, Fox put her chin to the ground and watched as her little red spawn began to pick on her sister. They were actually enjoyable when they were acting like this, though Fox couldn't bring herself to smile. She knew the calm and peace would only last a few minutes (at the very most) before somebody was wailing or shitting themselves.

Idly, she began to wonder what the black one's name would be. Fox had no intentions to name either of "her" kids for at least a half turn of the moon, but she could think the names. So long as she didn't speak them... that was okay, right? She'd have to be something black, which wasn't terribly difficult to do. There were plenty of black birds around as well, which would fit in nicely with Peregrine's naming convention. "Blackbird" would actually make a decent name, but Fox wasn't sold on it. No, she'd need more time to think of something more fitting.

Raven didn't seem to like that munch. Wildfire only knew this because her sister began vibrating, which caused her to freeze. She enjoyed the peculiar, tickling sensation for a moment, smiling around the flap of flesh in her maw. With a tiny growl of her own, she then began shaking her head side to side, quite clearly trying to rip Raven's ear right off her face.

But gums were slippery things and as she began to drool, the saliva acted as a lubricant and suddenly her grip slipped and the momentum sent her flying backward onto her bottom. The whole thing happened so fast that she didn't even have time to make a sound. She then unleashed an indignant whining growl which was particularly shrill in nature, voicing her displeasure over her smarting rear end.

The pugnacious (and literally butthurt) little pup made to renew her attack, only to take a blow to the face. Raven might not have had the best aim but that didn't matter with a moving target. Wildfire took the punch right to the nose. She yelped in surprise, then began having a sneezing fit so violent that when it was over—roughly eleven sneezes later—she spat up her lunch. All of this right in Raven's little face.

Omg I just got barfed on. This is so much fun. XD

All was craziness for a moment, a jumbled-up confusion of staggering about and flailing, before one of her blind, haphazard punches connected with a sharp whap! The sudden impact startled the black puppy, and she jumped and yelped, not quite understanding what had just happened (surely, later on, she'd take great delight in knocking her sister's block off). There was a suspended sort of calm for a few moments -- during which, unbeknownst to her since she still couldn't hear or see, Wildfire was in the throes of a violent sneezing fit -- before suddenly, something warm, gooey, and smelly bathed her face, head, and chest. The blackbird had no idea what it was, only that it smelled interesting and felt kind of cool. Squeaking curiously, she began to paw at it, effectively rubbing it all in her own face.

Good science, you kids are disgusting. :P

Well, the peace didn't last long. Fox had set her chin on the ground for no more than fifteen seconds before Wildfire was screaming and puking all over her sister's face. Groaning, Fox lifted her head and began to clean the milky fluids off of the black daughter's head. Taste was not something that mattered to Fox, which was a good thing, considering all the nasty garbage she had to deal with.

Fox then picked up Wildfire and dropped her next to the runt of the litter, who had awoken and was presently swimming his way toward Fox's milk duds. Fox figured Wildfire couldn't puke anything else up for at least a minute or two. With her out of the way, Fox began to clean the rest of her darker daughter, hoping to rid her of any lingering sights and smells.

>:)

She was still recovering from her episode when jaws closed around her midriff, hoisting her into the air. Wildfire squeaked and squirmed, though less energetically than usual. Her nose hurt, her bum hurt and that combination sneeze/puke attack had really taken a lot out of her.

When Fox placed her near her smaller brother, Wildfire pressed a paw into him and shoved him away. She then curled into a ball, nudging her own sore bottom for a moment before hiding her nose beneath her tail and grumpily falling asleep.

I'm back!  Sorry for the hold-up!  Gonna go ahead and have Raven pass out too so this thing can be archived. :)

The little blackbird basked in the attention of her mother for a few moments, once the pestilent Wildfire had been removed from the scene.  She enjoyed the feeling of the soft, warm tongue that passed in cleansing strokes over her cotton-fuzz coat, and an assortment of giggles and squeaks escaped her tiny maw in the process.  After a few moments, her mother scooched her over near Wildfire -- who was now growing still and quiet after the ruckus of the moments prior -- and Raven did the same.  With a large yawn, she cozied up alongside her fire-coated sister and began to drift on the fuzzy currents of sleepiness.

With all four of them settling down, Fox began to settle as well. In no time, the whole den was a pile of puppies and their overwrought mother snoozing the afternoon away. Fox was ever-so-thankful for the break, even if she expected it to be a short one. Hopefully, as they grew and became more independent, she'd feel better about them... but right now, she often wanted to ring their little necks.