Silvertip Mountain However long you stay is all that I am

@June Post-dated an unspecified amount of time, after the rest of the litter is gone and it's settled down a bit.

June. He hadn't heard her name yet - those tightly-furled ears were closed to sounds. Nor could he see the colours of her fur, or the bright eyes that would hopefully soon open. But he could feel. He could feel her as motion in his heart. They had thought she was lost, at first. But he had always known that she belonged in this world. In particular, she belonged with him, just as she always had since they were conceived. June and Mason - they had never been apart.

Mason had small paws, three of which sported socks of mottled storm grey, goose white and walnut brown. Without hesitance he pushed the front-left leg outwards with extreme care. It met with a body that was soft. There she was, his twin survivor.

She was smaller than he, and she emanated an unbelievable fragility to his unseeing eyes. Mason's paw moved over June's shoulder, his plush leather pads reaching her chest. With one small, light slap he tapped her breast-bone.

I'm here. We're here Sister. We made it, you and I. I'll protect you.

All of this was spoken with one touch. At the moment, that was all he could give her. But it was only a foretelling to everything that he would be in the future. In time, he would show her what he could be.

Gently, Mason's tiny muzzle nuzzled her miniscule neck. He purled a note of contentment; his immature voice chiming like a bell, just for her. June.

A touch, a slap more like. It reminded June of that prodding thing that had occurred not too long ago. That had hurt, this hurt, everything hurt. A chime rang through the air but it missed June's ears. Even if she had heard it there would have been silence in response. Her thoughts were mugged, blurred, slow. It took painstaking time to think through the simple things. Move left leg.

That was the command she was trying now. She didn't know if it should be this hard but it didn't respond the way she wanted. It felt sluggish and went in a different direction to that which she had intended. It probably bopped Mason back in return. It was easier to just lie still, to just not move. It was less effort that way.

It was the same with food. It was a struggle to summon the energy to suckle in the way her body told her to. But she did it. At least, she did it when she was close enough to not have to wriggle close.

Everything was too difficult. For now she lay and just let the nuzzling commence. The comforting, safety of that motion.

His tiny paw had struck a chord and a nerve in his sister. It appeared to cause some involuntary shudder, which trembled down his arm. He may have been young, dumb, deaf and stupid but that was enough to stay his paw. He kept it against her soft fur, resting his tiny velvet pads against the breastbone which contained her delicate heart. Sorry, the gesture said.
 
Both small, considering their early evacuation, there was still a distinct difference between them. She was the dove to his raven. It was a miracle she had survived at all, and they were not out of the woods yet.
 
A tentative paw reached out, patting him with the most feminine of gestures. It clobbered him on his ribcage, but barely moved a tuft of fur out of place. Mason let out a throaty "Brrrrrrrrrrr", glad for any gentle contact she could give him. Without her he would be alone. There would be wolves around that loved him of course, but without this little girl he would be the only one. The soul survivor of the onslaught of stress that had presumably driven them from their mother's womb.

June had gone still under his gentle caress, and Mason continued. His tongue peeped from between a row of salmon gums. Tentatively he scooped some fur into his mouth. The silken wispy threads tangled with his tastebuds, and suddenly he let out a violent (or as violent as can be expect for a newborn) sneeze right into her ruff.

It was just a gentle pressure now. It was calm and reassuring - helpful, safe, protective. Indeed she felt secure knowing that it was there. Just in case she forgot to keep breathing. It was still something she realised she wasn't doing. Every so often she just... forgot. Then she woke up and had to start again. Any type of touch helped. It seemed as long as she was being touched, she didn't forget. Time didn't stand still then. It grounded her to this earth.

The sneeze shocked her into breathing again. It woke her up and she remembered she had to do this thing. It was getting better. Each minute it got easier to breathe and she had to remember less. Each hour the breathing hurt less and was a comfort instead of a chore. It needed to become natural.

The other's breath was warm through her fur, she wriggled a little - squishing further into him instead of away. It pleaded with him to stay near, to keep her here — to help her remember the important things that would keep her in life.

Love her!!


When he carefully pressed down on her fragile breastbone, Mason felt something unusual. Unlike his regular breathing, hers hiccoughed every now and then. Like a motor, juddering to a stop, only to start up again with a sputter. It worried Mason - if there was one thing that he, and any puppy  should know, it was instinctual breathing. The panic fluttered in his heart, but he couldn't say what or why it was. He simply knew that she wasn't the same as him, this body laying against him.
 
It seemed his sneeze had kick-started her. His sister wriggled, and then squidged into him. Mason allowed her to without a fuss. As she shifted, he moved his back paw, pedalling it in the air until it gently brushed against her toes. Satisfied, he kept it there; the more points of contact the better.
 
With the length of her body now nearer to his, Mason felt warmer. He shivered in delight and squeaked happily. Perhaps she -too - would take delight in the warmth. The larger pup fell suddenly still, his front and back paw touching June, like a fortune teller attempting elicit a response.

The vibrations of the squeak echoed throughout her and, for the first time, she tried to repeat them. It was quiet, too quiet and the vibration barely moved herself. She doubted he had felt like either. She wanted to do the same as her brother. To squeak with joy and produce those exciting vibrations.

One more attempt. This one was quieter than the last and so she settled with nudging her head back to him. I'm here, she wanted to say. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay with you as long as you're with me. Mother and Father were both nearby, keeping them warm, but she lacked a connection with them. She was already having a hard time communicating and, right now, only Mason seemed to respond to her.

June waited, hoping that her head nudge would succeed where her vibrations had failed and prompt him to move again. She wanted to know that even if she failed to respond, he would do enough for both of them.

Her trilling sounds did not pass him by. With this paws pressed as they were at two points of her length he could just feel those tiny vibrations tremble down his legs, to settle against his heart. That she would try would always be enough for him; she was a fighter and a survivor. He would help her, but he would not mother her. It would likely come to be Raissa who would do this, to her baby girl that had a slower development than other puppies. Mason already felt content with June, and whatever she was - or could be - he would encourage as a brother, not as a babysitter.
 
She nudged him then, and Mason shifted his off-colour paw so that it lightly brushed her chest. He breathed her in, and an unbidden smile graced his back lips. Mason rumbled again, performing a few sharp noises and then one long purling one - none of which he could hear. But the difference in the threads of vibration spilling through his body interested him. He performed another little ditty for his sister, and then his throat began to hurt so he stopped. With dappled ears curled tight against his head, Mason moved his muzzle until he could rub his right cheek against her delicate face.

It succeeded. Her shiny armoured knight moved and  she squeaked with joy. It was louder and more successful than any other. So much so that it startled her into submission. Staying quiet, she focused on those breaths that were, at times, so laborious. Her borther moved his tiny face next to hers and she turned her attention to that. 

Trying something new she wriggled. Not to get away from him but to turn herself towards him. It took a lot of effort - and more energy than she probably should expend at this moment in time - but eventually it was successful. She pushed closer to him, wrapping one tiny leg over his body in a wolf-version of a hug.

The labour in her breathing was apparent to him, as close as they were. She wriggled and jiggled so delicately that Mason felt a tug on his heart-strings. This little being was clearly struggling so much more than he was. He felt selfish – as though he had somehow stolen the lion’s share of the good genes, and his sister had been left with the scraps. Little did he know at this point, that he would probably continue to feel this way as they grew older and she continued to develop more slowly than him.

For now all he could do was squeeze her ever-so-gently, his soft leather pads pressed against her body, and coo unnoticed soft words into her ear.

This makes 10! I'll archive it

The soft squeeze helped her body maintain its rhythm and she found the breathing came to her gradually. It was going to be a hard process, growing up, and even grown up life would never be particularly easy for her. Little June, at least she had her protector could look out for her. Right now he was saving her from the unknown that she had slipped close to once or twice. The slim veil between unconsciousness and death grew ever thicker while he was near her, protecting her, keeping the grim reaper at bay with his paws.

The two siblings, whose journey to life had been hard and difficult, slept curled up together. Relying upon each other in a way that was only natural for them.