It was late in the morning when Joxter decided to leave Mymble's bed for Mymble's couch.

Mymble herself had already risen— she was a morning person, with many morning responsibilities— but Joxter had continued snoozing in the spot where he'd been curled at her feet. Now he stretched out in a patch of sunlight, and gave a yawn before making his way to the living room.

Usually Mymble's house was filled with the sounds of dozens of children, but today it seemed they had all gone outside to play, and Joxter planned to take advantage of the peace by catching up on some sleep.

There was only one problem with this plan.

Someone else was in his spot on the couch; and this wasn't so much the problem as who the person was. It was Snufkin. His son was curled into a tight ball, in the cat like way Joxter liked to sleep, but much less relaxed. In fact, he didn't look very comfortable at all.

"Mymble?" Joxter called.

"Yes dear?"

"How can you tell if a child is sick?"

At that her head appeared in the doorway, giving him a teasing smile.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Joxter raised his hands in the air. "I've just never seen Snufkin- in the house before."

He felt bad for the joke but it was true- small as he was Snufkin was always outdoors, and loved to rise early. It was strange to see him sleeping late and indoors on such a lovely spring day.

Joxter frowned as he looked down at his son.

"He looks as though he doesn't feel very good."

Mymble frowned at that, making her way to Snufkin and placing a hand on his forehead.

"He does feel warm." She hummed as she ran a hand through his hair, and he gave a small whine in his sleep. "Poor dear."

Joxter blinked as she made to leave once again, now heading down the hall.

"Where are you going?"

Mymble paused, her gaze meeting Joxter's and melting to something softer, a look they both knew he could rarely say no to.

"Would you mind to sit with him?"

His voice came out small.

"Me?"

Mymble nodded, still smiling.

"I'm sure he'll be alright. He'll probably spend the rest of the day sleeping like he is now. I think you can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"I doubt he's bound to cause much trouble like this." They both looked down at their still sleeping son, who was dead to the world. Joxter couldn't argue with that.

"I'll be right back." Mymble said, and with that she disappeared down the hall.

While she was gone Joxter watched Snufkin sleep with equal parts apprehension and affection. No one had ever left him alone with a child before. And while he adored Snufkin (more than he'd like to admit; and certainly more than felt... safe considering his carefree nature), he got the feeling that he might not be very good at things like… this. Joxter had spent plenty of time with his son, but doing fun things, like playing or telling stories; and Mymble was always close at hand. Generally speaking, she took care of the more 'serious' aspects of parenting.

Now she returned with a spoon and a bottle, handing them over to him.

"Here." She said, "Give him a teaspoon of this, and then let him sleep."

"Any advice?" Joxter asked weakly, silently pleading she would change her mind.

Mymble smiled at him a little too warmly as she left.

"Watch out for the claws."

Joxter felt his face turn warm as he flexed his own paws.

"Right."

Joxter felt a pang of guilt (and affection) as he watched Snufkin sleep. He obviously didn't feel well but he did look cozy, and Joxter hated to disturb his rest anymore than he and Mymble already had.

Joxter sat down at the opposite end of the couch, watching his son doze for a few more moments before finally caving.

"Come here, little one."

Snufkin was still small enough that he could be scooped up easily, and so Joxter was able to lift him up and prop him against his knees in one motion. Snufkin did not appreciate this, which he made clear by glaring (once he managed to open his eyes), and bringing out the claws Mymble had mentioned. Joxter gave an uneasy laugh as he grimaced. "I know. I'm sorry."

Snufkin squirmed as Joxter measured out the medicine, and by some miracle he managed not to spill any. The older mumrik realized that reasoning would probably get him nowhere, but he tried it anyways. "Just take a little bit of this and you can go back to sleep. It'll make you feel better. And I won't stop pestering you until you do." Joxter gave a sneaky smile, prodding Snufkin gently just as his eyes drifted shut again. That was the last straw. Snufkin opened his mouth, either to hiss or to bite, but Joxter was tricky and quick, and Snufkin had taken his medicine almost before he realized it. "There we go." Joxter grinned. Snufkin made a face as if he'd tasted something nasty (he probably had), and Joxter might've laughed if the little mumrik didn't look so pitiful. Snufkin scrambled away, curling into a tight ball in the opposite corner of the couch, as far away from his papa as he could get. Joxter's heart clenched when he saw that his son was glaring at him, despite the fact that he could hardly keep his little eyes open.

"Aww," He cooed, biting back a smile. "I'm sorry little one. I'm done now. No more nasty medicine." He held up his hands to show that they were empty, and Snufkin shrank back a bit before gentle fingers began to card through his hair. "It's alright." Joxter hummed. Snufkin purred drowsily as his father continued stroking his hair, and Joxter might have drifted off himself had his son not begun to shiver.

"You must be freezing." Joxter frowned. He curled around his son, carefully tucking his smaller frame into his side. Snufkin blinked up at him blearily. "Here," He said softly, pulling a blanket down from the back of the couch. "We can nap together, and then we'll both be nice and warm." He tucked the blanket around them both and draped an arm over Snufkin, who was still purring and was now asleep. "There we are." Joxter smiled to himself as he began to doze. "That's much better."