I'm gonna be a mighty king

Age: 6 weeks

Open for fam!~ (only tagging everybody once if they play multiples! <3) @Reiko @Quicksilver @Isilmë @Vienne @Hotaru

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He was the only boy in a group of girls, but he might as well have been one of many. He was rough on the girls, using his needle-point teeth and superior weight and size to antagonize them. It wasn't that he held any dislike for them; only that he played harder than perhaps he should have. His rough play had only worsened once his vision had sharpened up, and his ability to hear their annoyed cries when he flopped his greater puppy weight on one of the girls. 

Success.

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This year's young ones were getting bigger. Every day they were gaining weight, as quickly as the last coupe litters did. There would only be a certain few of these moments left that were hers to enjoy, soon if she lucky they would only be shared as a grandmother with her children's children. A new chapter was opening in their lives, one she would enjoy then when the time came. For now, it was all about the now.

The annoyed cries of her daughters caught Reiko's attention immediately. Already sighing in a humorous fatigue for her son's antics. He wasn't dangerous to his sisters, otherwise Reiko would have separated them by now and thankfully that wasn't necessary. Arathorn just had to learn to gentler with others smaller than he. With a gentle nudge his mother would take him off of his sister, and with another few directed nudges would bring him to Reiko's front legs for a bath.

She was a diligent mother. Even if they didn't like it, she would reserve these moments for when ones like Arathorn needed time away from the others. A creative time out one can call it. “You must be more gentle with them my son.” She'd say between soft strokes of her tongue across his muzzle and head. Cleaning off any dirt and leftover food stuck to his face and coat.

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Her nose pushed him away from the girls, an indignant whine slipping the boy's throat. He would try and avoid his mother's nose as she tried to guide him farther from them but his efforts were futile, in the end. Arathorn would find himself between Mama's paws, her tongue sweeping over his fur while he would babble away, puppy sounds and squeaks coming from his tiny mouth. Her words, while they did not fall on deaf ears, still fell on ears that didn't quite understand her. 

He did, however, understand enough to make sounds right back at her. “Ma ma ma ma.”

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Naturally the child fought against her guidance away from his more passive sisters and into her paws - even more so for a bath. Children never really understood and were always focused on play time. Something she cherished and agreed with that it was important - but so was consent.

And his sisters weren't having much fun.

The boy babbled and she nuzzled into him. Perhaps playing with mom would be more suitable for the boy than his siblings. She would of course take it gentle on the boy, let him win if he fought back against her nudging and pushing. He could use that limitless amount of energy on her instead! She would be more than happy to play with him, even if the mother was no longer as youthful as she once was with her first litter.

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Mama was affectionate, playful with him. His paws would swat clumsily at her nose, his sharp little baby teeth trying to catch her when she was close. He would be a large boy, with the size and weight of some of his ancestors; for now though, he was small, and easily tumbled and rolled when she truly got him going. That puppy energy would wear out eventually though, and Arathorn would finally bumble closer and plop himself into his mother’s arms, a tiny yawn leaving him as he settled down.
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