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Post by Nadia on Aug 10, 2023 1:51:43 GMT -6
The water runs on, calm and placid. Aside from a few splashes, there is nothing to be seen within, however. Oh dear...
[Nothing happens.]
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 17:35:34 GMT -6
Against the black and loosened blonde of his own fur coat, the thing has moderately short fuzz growing all over, like a houlou puppy. Breathing slow and steady in sleep, its head buried into him. Its hard to tell in his sleepy state what this thing ...is. Kristofor's upper body stiffens as he stretches his arms forward with a wide mouthed yawn, intending to go back to sleep. Nothing unusual here... zzz...
YOWCH!
He bolts upright when something sharp bites his chest. The thing comes up with him, its head attached to him like a beagle tick. Looking down, he's nose to nose with a longer muzzled...uh... Was this a baby fox? The bite is tighter with moving up, releasing a screech of pain. The thing alarms at the noise, releasing his chest and falling back into sitting on its haunches. With a mouthful of black and blonde fur.
Bulllllaaaaah it makes the most unusual bleating noise, his fur coating the inside of its mouth... with needlelike baby fox teeth inside that mouth, stained with his blood.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 17:57:35 GMT -6
Sitting up with the support of one arm, the fox's other hand pats his chest. A good hunk of fur is missing, with pierced skin. Little pinpricks of red dot his dark fingerpads. Ow, that HURT. Gah, like having his baby fox cousin latch onto him in protest of being picked up one day. The creature sits before him, making weird noises, shaking its large earred head back and forth. Is...is it trying to eat his fur? Fox fur isn't nearly as clingy with fabric as dog fur; Trust him, he knows this personally. The animal makes 'pffffh' noises but seems unable to spit out his fur.
'Well, how do you do...' Kristofor mutters to himself. Mostly focused on the animal's long muzzled face. The nose is awfully large for a fox. Slightly sleepy still, its escaping him of why there's a baby fox on the riverbank. 'My fur doesn't taste too good, huh' The creature pauses in trying to eat the mouthful of fur, blinking large eyes at him. Like, LARGE LARGE eyes, with no specifically visible pupil, the colors meld so well. Its like staring at an aurora.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 18:54:04 GMT -6
On a guess, he looks aorund for a small fistful of grass within reach, so he could give this baby fox something to chew on, for he doesn't have ...milk...
Wait a minute. The sleepy side of his mind suddenly wakes with a realization. The baby fox had bitten him, on the chest. It was HUNGRY. Ugh... why was he so stupid when just waking up. Stifling another yawn, he is fully awake now.
Bllllaaah the large eared baby fox makes another unusual noise, his fur a wadded up lump in its open mouth. Like it has no idea how to spit out the foreign object.
'wait a minute' he says, shifting into being on his hands and knees, crawling awkwardly towards the baby fox. Its distracted by the lump of fur in its mouth, trying and failing to get it out. 'I'll help you. My fur isn't good to eat.' Carefully, he reaches out for the baby's muzzle.
Mullleeeeh the baby protests as it realizes warm feeling is coming close, with big face and big legs, gripping onto its muzzle. Pinching the lower jaw. Mlaaaah! and the yucky waddy is....gone?
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 19:04:32 GMT -6
'Sorry little one, I dont' have any milk. I'm not a mommy fox.' It sound so WEIRD saying that out loud. Inside his mind, Kristofor's having a minor freeze frame moment. Because he's trying to remember if he had brought along any of Mrs. Badger's special tonics when he'd packed to leave home. No, and he hasn't made any close friends like that either. Milk isn't something he has, at the apartment, here or anywhere he can think of. Do they even stock milk at the 'free food' for pets?
What were his options. The baby wrests its muzzle from his grip, now that the wet lump of fur has been extracted. A pinched face with shaking its head back and forth. Kristofor considers his options, lobbing the wad of wet fur into the shallows of the river. It'll break apart with the current, so its not exactly littering... is it?
The baby fox's face makes a pinched long expression before splitting open in a needle toothed YAWWWWWN. Blinking in the shade of the riverside, eyes trying to focus.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 19:11:13 GMT -6
  Without the option of milk, he gets up slowly, as to not spook the newly born cub. His satchel should have some food options; mostly packed for taking Darwin or Dawson to the river for playing. The bag is heavy to haul with one hand, dragged from the cart onto the towel. Taking each item out carefully to set it before him while unpacking. Rocks, no... a basket... no... oh he did have a hand net. That could help a bit. A few jars of treats... An apple, some berries... Mm, no. Too young to eat berries yet, not whole. If it can't figure out spitting up or out a hairball, not a good idea. Something... squishier. There's a tin of pellets as well. Maybe he could catch a fish and squish up the fish to feed the baby fox? The fox has no idea how to care for a baby. Could it be like taking care of a puppy? No, by the time he got Dawson AND Darwin, they were all ready to leave their parent. This is a newborn BABY. Approaching the shore, Kristofor puts a few pellets of bait and a few hard calico feeders in the bottom of the net, crouching to dip the net in the water. A softened treat might be enough... as he has no raw meat on him. Using:  10 |
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 10, 2023 22:36:14 GMT -6
Whether he caught something or not, Kristofor shifts his position into a lotus pose, sitting on the literal edge of the shallows, gently swishing his hand net back and forth in the water. Nothing seemed to be happening with the treat...were they not water soluble. Might have to break it up first.
Fishing the net out of the water, the few calico feeders, totally intact, remain at the bottom of the net. Expression pursed to expose one canine in thought, the fox picks up a smooth river rock to crack the capsules apart. The idea, at least in his head, is to soften up the treat to being mushy enough to give the baby fox. He has a concern; where was the cub's parents. There's no scent along the river besides his own right now.
Here's an idea; what if the fox came from the egg. he considers that, glancing at the cub who is laying on the towel without movement. Just staring blankly in one direction.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 3:33:03 GMT -6
The cub on his towel hasn't uncurled its body from the awkward position he'd left it in after dislodging from his chest. Just staring out and blinking. Was it capable of seeing at all? Of seeing "him"? Even his newborn cousin had taken a few weeks to be able to see, but...this baby fox seems at few weeks old, at least sizewise. Was it another one of those 'hand wavey labs animal' things, where creatures pop out of the egg at various sizing already?
-crack- The treat he has been gently tapping apart on the rocks finally breaks up. He feels the broken treat. Yes, just what he thought, these are 'not soft' on the inside and need to be softened. And he's of no interest of feeding the baby fox across from him on the shore like its some sort of helpless baby bird. He's watched baby birds be fed by their parents, and stuffing his muzzle in that mouth full of needle teeth to barf into its throat is unappealing.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 3:41:46 GMT -6
Another backwards glance... watching its most unusual shape. Was it another 'type' of fox, one native to this part of the world? Being a silver fox, Kristofor's nativity is from another region of the world itself; and if his fur wasn't naturally sheddy, would help make him better suited for colder climates. The fuzz looks a bit long over its tail, like a tiny bottle brush.
There's rustling from the bushes beyond them both, in the direction the baby fox is facing. A bird takes flight suddenly, a flurry of noise and color as it has a bright red to its wings on takeoff. A...cardinal? Is that a cardinal? He didn't see a crest on its head.
Mmeahhh! In a flurry of tangled limbs, the cub alarms and topples over on its side. Still. The flighty part of Kristofor starts getting up to check on the new hatched baby... but something holds him back.
One minute passes, then two... a full five minutes pass before the limbs twitch, and the cub stirs from laying there like it had been dead?
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 3:47:21 GMT -6
So thats what it was doing... he thinks to himself, a sigh of relief exhaling from his own still figure, half raised out of lotus position to check on the baby animal. Playing dead? Weird choice, but babies are helpless so that does make sense. Slightly more relaxed from the tense spring wound up inside him, focus. Get food fro the baby fox. Its teeth are there but not enough to chew anything. Its going to be like giving medicine to the dogs, where its a smear of peanut butter on the back on their long tongues to do that lapping the roof of your mouth sort of thing to get something off.
The cub makes a strange bleaty noise again, limbs struggling as it undoes itself from laying flat on its side. Like it forgot it has paws and is trying to move on its elbows and knees instead. The fox's hand pauses in reaching for the hand net; was it trying to stand up?
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 3:55:51 GMT -6
Minutes pass as the newborn animal flails and struggles. Again, he wants to get up and help the baby fox with finding their limbs properly, but its acting too differently for a helpless baby fox... and his instincts are going Wait. Something's not right here. Like the ginger apple snaps; Can't see, his foot. The limbs don't even fold properly like a fox as it struggles the back half up first, like standing on toothpicks, The bottlebrush of a tail dangles between those spindly legs as it struggles a step forward, then a step back as the front limbs dont' quite do what it wants to do...which if he's reading this right, is stand up.
Mlaaaah it bleats out strangely again, staring around like it...does it not see him.
'Here I am' he barks back. The animal's flopped ears twitch in the direction he barked in... where now? 'Here I am, look over here' another bark, but this onen's more of a yip instead. His natural sounding fox sounds. Something it would instinctively understand, right?
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 4:06:16 GMT -6
The creature's instincts are telling it three things; get up, get food, safe is close by. Safe being the warmth it had cuddled up to when first bursting free of the cramped space of egg. It can hear 'safe' making noises nearby, angling ears as their spindly legs try to figure out up and down, not sideways. Murrrgh it grumbles, back end staggering a step or two as it tries to move forwards but front end doesn't pick up fast enough. Shifting. The scent of 'safe' is stronger. Get up to get food. A few more tries before those long front legs unfold like the back legs, and stagger upright. It stands there, gravity not being its friend, limbs slightly spread out to hold balance like a crab vs whatever this is. The eyes, although open, haven't 'opened'. Like being blind. Sound of safe making safe sounds. Mlllaaaah calling back. Here! Here!
A stumbling step forward from the back...and its front legs move forward too. Progress! Bark-yip! The head turns, 'safe' is over there.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 4:11:42 GMT -6
The sight of watching a baby take their first steps does a weird little 'warmth' inside his chest as the fox watches the baby...fox? take a few staggered first steps. Now that its no longer laying down on the towel, he can follow the limb structure down to some trembly hooves. A rush of heat across his body of embarrassment. Was this a deer or something? Looks like a fox, and has sharp teeth. It bleats again, looking left and right like it genuinely can't see him. 'I'm here!' he barks back. Shuffling sideways, slightly caught on the fabric of the towel on those tiny hoof stubs, finding their feet to take first steps. Pausing for up to a minute, slightly swaying like a drunk to either regain their balance or to listen for him again. Bark-yip! 'Here! I'm here!'
Just don't go walking right into the river please, he's not sure about how strong of a swimmer it 'could' end up being. Retrieving one of the calico feeders he'd been trying to mush up with the water, the cracked treat has a fishy sort of scent now.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 4:16:56 GMT -6
Its enough of a foreign smell for that large nose to catch scent, bleating with urgency. Hungry. Probably starving, and hairballs won't cover it. It won't mush up fast enough now.
'I am not feeding you like a baby bird does.' he growls to himself, popping the calico feeder into his own mouth. Sharp teeth break up the shell holding the treat in its convenient tough form, but he doesn't chew it, just letting the overwhelmingly fishy taste meld on his tongue, nudging the sides of his mouth a bit to stimulate what happens when one yawns, a bit of extra saliva to soften the treat up. Watching the not-fox not-deer thing stumble and stagger towards him as it figures out direction from sound of his noises, closer to the edge of the water; he'd have to catch the creature before it took a sudden dip.
Finally he can't take it any longer and spits the quite softened treat out into his palm. ugh, at least its not made of chicken.
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 11, 2023 4:22:29 GMT -6
Just in time too to catch the baby animal from going right past him and into the river. Definitely although he's a 'natural' at swimming as a fox, swimming to save a drowning whatever this is isn't in the ideas right now. The creature bumps blindly into him, making a grunty bleaty sound. 'Look at you, already up on your feet.' he gives a soft growly yip of response, putting his hand practically into its nose. That giant nose sniffs and snaps forth, he can see those needle teeth again as it clamps on his hand as well. ouch.
'ouch' That hurts. Shaking his hand gently back and forth until tilting it up, and the lump of wet treat tilts off into its maw. Mrrrgh? The creature pauses, a suddenly radically different taste apparent. And it pauses, clicking its tongue against the roof its mouth several times before Kristofor gets close enough to draw two fingers of his not-bitten hand down its throat to promote swallowing. That didn't take long as it swallows hard, and releases his hand.
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