In the days that passed following the birth of her pups, Durnehviir had departed her den only when she had to. Despite Constantine's watchful gaze over their family and the never-ending trust she held in her heart for him, the russet Alphess was loathe to leave her babes alone with anyone. They were her number one priority - tiny, helpless lives that had grown within her own womb - and her anxiety flared if they were out of sight for even the shortest times.
With her mate rising to act as sole leader while the cubs relied on her milk, he was often forced to take his leave while he tended to his duties. She missed him sorely when he went and fretted that he might miss out, but also relished the time alone with her brood. They would not be small forever, she knew, and often found herself simply observing the rise and fall of their chests as they slumbered. They didn't do much of anything else, though Durnehviir remained entirely enraptured by every single thing about them.
Evening crept in as the crimson beauty curled herself about her litter to settle them for the night. While Akavir parted his little jaws in a squeaky yawn and the other two boys continued to sleep soundly, @Viinturuth grumbled to himself in apparant annoyance at the proximity of his siblings. Her eyes softened on him, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in the hint of a smile.
"What's this?" Durnehviir crooned to her pale, restless son as she hovered her nares over the boy's alabastar spine. "Is someone in need of a hug?"
Mere days old, Viinturuth's life had consisted of very little beyond eat, sleep, wail, repeat. The world around him did not change much, though he was aware of the subtle differences that came and went and sometimes stayed. His mother's tone was comforting, familiar from a time in the womb that he could not recall, though there was a much deeper rumble that frequented their family's little hollow.
It was too soon to recognise either of these voices as "Mother" or "Father", but he knew that they were his. They were safe to him and the touch that often followed their vibration no longer startled him the way they did upon his arrival to the world. Now, he often welcomed the warmth and happily acknowledged the affection with contented little peeps - but not this day.
Movement grouped him among his siblings, enveloping them together as his provider wrapped her frame around her babes, and Viinturuth cried out in objection. A brother's paw batted him directly between his closed eyes and he tried to squirm away, but remained trapped between the other little bodies on either side of him. As expected, an adult responded to his squeaks and he felt her hot breath on his back, soothing him with words he could not comprehend. His original outrage softened, replaced by a gentle mewling as he strained to lift his over-sized head - asking to be freed from the smothering of his siblings.
She pressed her lips to her infant's pale hide, nostrils flared to breathe deep his warm puppy scent. A soft croon swept over Viinturuth's back and she pulled back to settle her champagne gaze lovingly into his little face, her tail flopping happily over her hind limbs as he tried to hoist himself up onto his elbows.
She reached down to him again, gripping his tiny frame with gentle firmness between her jaws and plucking him from among his brothers. Carefully, Durnehviir extended her slim fores and placed him between them, before stealing a glance at her other children to be sure that they still dozed. Content that they hadn't been disturbed, she turned her head to focus on the one puppy that wasn't prepared to sleep.
He felt the closeness of his mother and crooned softly to her, appreciative of the gentle touch of her muzzle to his shoulders. Unknowingly, his stubby white tail wiggled contently between his outstretched hind limbs - though stilled when the adult ceased her caress to look upon him again.
His frustration over Durnehviir's inability to read his mind was short-lived, however, as he felt the ground disappear beneath him. Plucked from between his siblings, the palest Frostfur-Mayfair was delicately placed between his dam's slender forelegs and at once, he set about exploring her lower limbs with curious prodding of his blunt snout.
Her heart swelled with love and pride, and the tip of her feathered tail twitched contently as her soft eyes followed the puppy's movement. Viinturuth pushed his little nose against her outstretched forelimbs, his curiosity enough to rouse the brightness of her smile.
Carefully, she reached down to touch her nose to the boy's pallid forehead, still intrigued by his lack of hue. She recalled her uncle's tales of their vast family in Samarkand, of how her grandmother, Nita, had bore a pelt as pure as untouched snow. Durnehviir's own brother, Julius, had also inherited an Arctic pelt; it amused her greatly that her first-born should be named for the wolf who he least resembled.
"Viinturuth," She crooned to the boy, even though he could not hear. It merely pleased her greatly to be able to speak her beloved uncle's name again, and no longer associate it with sorrow.
He found warmth, softness and utmost comfort in his mother's arms. Viinturuth nosed through the furs of his dam's limb as he shuffled along the length of it until his muzzle fund her tufted chest. Tiny paws rake through the fur there, instinctiely searching for a source of food and heat.
Finding no milk, the palest of the Frostfur-Mayfair children snuggled close to Durnehviir's breast for a nap.
He rummages through her fur, but finds no sign of a teat. Abandoning his search for food, Viinturuth resorts to doing what else he does bst: napping. Durnehviir smiles inwardly, amused by her little son's ease at accepting not immediately having what he wants, and tucks him close to sleep.
Champagne eyes drift over the pups' slumbering forms, ginger ears pricked to listen fondly to their sleepy cooing. She settles around them, exhaling a satisfied sigh, and allows herself to rest.