there was no milk, and a dark little synapse flared to life in the tiny brain: sometimes there was not food to be had and it was terrifying.
water sluiced along the stranger's fur. pup lapped eagerly at this fresh wet, feeling how it cooled his mouth and tongue, how it did not carry the heaviness of salt.
too young for many memories, a being fixed firmly in the now, pup pulled away from the betraying stomach and started to hunt the ground. his stomach still hurt from the much-earlier meal of seagrass and clay, but at least he had eaten.
the figure who was almost wolf, who was like oba but not, lowered to reassure. pup whined as the vibration of their voice thrummed on the air and in the stone. his miniature tongue licked at the chin so much larger than his own, reaching up, trying to search along the wide dangerous teeth for any morsel. pup stood on tiptoe for this attempt.
it took too much out of him; the boy sank back down. he knew the older one was speaking, but the sound was nothing like what he had heard in utero or for those first weeks of his life.
pup whined again, more weakly. he was warm but the unfilled belly still sapped at his failing reserves of strength. at least there was water in him now, that sensation of thirst quieted for the present.
fur enveloped pup as he curled his legs and lay down beside the curved belly once more. to not be cold any longer made the boy limp with relief. he stared hazily up into the crimson eyes, smelled the good plant scents in the pelt. they too were not like what he had known, but this familiarity was at the root of all. ama and eena had carried that fragrance, flowers and roots, sweet blossoms and a tangle of fine rich earth. things for which pup had no names, only impressions. but the stranger himself carried in his personal odor the maleness which pup had only just come to associate with his father.
like oba, and not. he was getting sleepy. the other was looking down at him, mouth moving. pup stared solemnly back from his place against furred flank before he asked,
water sluiced along the stranger's fur. pup lapped eagerly at this fresh wet, feeling how it cooled his mouth and tongue, how it did not carry the heaviness of salt.
too young for many memories, a being fixed firmly in the now, pup pulled away from the betraying stomach and started to hunt the ground. his stomach still hurt from the much-earlier meal of seagrass and clay, but at least he had eaten.
the figure who was almost wolf, who was like oba but not, lowered to reassure. pup whined as the vibration of their voice thrummed on the air and in the stone. his miniature tongue licked at the chin so much larger than his own, reaching up, trying to search along the wide dangerous teeth for any morsel. pup stood on tiptoe for this attempt.
it took too much out of him; the boy sank back down. he knew the older one was speaking, but the sound was nothing like what he had heard in utero or for those first weeks of his life.
pup whined again, more weakly. he was warm but the unfilled belly still sapped at his failing reserves of strength. at least there was water in him now, that sensation of thirst quieted for the present.
fur enveloped pup as he curled his legs and lay down beside the curved belly once more. to not be cold any longer made the boy limp with relief. he stared hazily up into the crimson eyes, smelled the good plant scents in the pelt. they too were not like what he had known, but this familiarity was at the root of all. ama and eena had carried that fragrance, flowers and roots, sweet blossoms and a tangle of fine rich earth. things for which pup had no names, only impressions. but the stranger himself carried in his personal odor the maleness which pup had only just come to associate with his father.
like oba, and not. he was getting sleepy. the other was looking down at him, mouth moving. pup stared solemnly back from his place against furred flank before he asked,
oba?
