Redhawk Caldera fits of fire and falling feathers

family and those who would be allowed near the den

As wild as it had been to be forced out of the womb and into the open world, Lucy was coming to realize that life was not so bad. Aside from the rogue limb that would swat at her face, or the soft gums of her brother or sister gnawing on her body, the inky Blackthorn had quite the cushy life. She was permitted to sleep for long hours of the day and night. There was a plush stomach that she could nuzzle into when she grew tired or cold – conveniently enough, this stomach also provided her with sustenance.
 
Enjoying the array of motion that her little limbs were capable of, the young blob would find herself absently swinging her arms around until they slapped against one of her siblings, or against her mother. Once this happened several times in a row, Lucy opted to the taste-test game.
 
Seeing as her sense of taste and touch were the strongest senses that she possessed in her ripe age, the inky youth made it a goal to wobble around near her mother’s belly and put as many things in her mouth as was possible. On that very day, it happened to be a small clump of fur that caused her to gag, a piece of bedding… that also caused her to gag. As well as her sister’s tail. Surprisingly enough, this also caused her to gag.

The days that followed the birth of her second litter went by in blurred, seemingly endless succession. Where before their arrival she had cried for the fear of never getting to actually spend time with them, the fact that she had actually done so was a simple technicality. She slept most days and all through the nights, rousing herself only at the most urgent of squeaks and when her own instincts demanded she move them, cleanse them, feed them or otherwise settle their distress. Even then, it was not a guarantee that their pleas would wake her for she had two excellent caretakers in her mate and eldest son. Where she lacked, they stepped in, allowing the weakened mother the time she needed to recover.

When Finley awoke that day, it was to a level of consciousness that she had not experienced since before she'd given birth. It took her a while to coax her eyelids to stay apart, and even longer to lift her head from the ground. Her gaze was blurry still as she turned to peer at the little creatures at her side - two of which were sleeping soundly, snuggled against her stomach. The other was bustling about though, glomping random things in her mouth and then spitting them out with a gagging cough. For a moment, Finley simply watched with a slowly canting head as the odd little peanut explored her tiny world.

"Where did you come from..." Fin murmured, almost as if she didn't recognize that this was actually hers. The other two were identical to each other, and nearly identical to all of the other Blackthorns. So what was this other one doing there? "You're just a little weirdo, aren't you." In spite of the unfamiliarity in her words, there was warmth in her tone and in her motions as she reached to sniff at the little black puppy, finally meeting her for what seemed like the first time.

*quietly collects puppy threads*

When Elwood returned from a brief hunt, he was greeted with the sound of gagging. He slipped into the den quietly, finding Finley awake and Lucy choking on the fur of her sister's tail. It was a funny sight as the little black pup coughed and her face twisted with displeasure, but Elwood watched her carefully for a moment to make sure that she was really okay.

He settled himself across from Finley, a smirk pulling at his lips as she commented on Lucy's appearance. "Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked, raising his brows and fixing his wife with a pointed gaze. "Peregrine said she's not his..." he added as he reached out to poke at Lucy with a large grey forepaw.

So far there was only a small list of things that were actually good to put in her mouth, and for this she wasn’t too pleased. It was difficult to find things when her life consisted of a quiet darkness, however. The inky babe had found enough ways to cause trouble with her limited resources; imagine what she would be like when she could form her own sentences and truly make her own choices.
 
The little pup was not yet aware of the stark difference in appearance that she had in comparison with the rest of her family. Her brother and sister were identical, but she was quite literally the black sheep. While her mother pondered on where Lucy had miraculously come from, the little ink-spot could feel her voice from over her head. Lifting up her stubby muzzle just as her mother was leaning in to sniff her, Lucy could feel her nose lightly boop into the cold wet of Finley’s. With a little shudder, the pup wiggled something fierce before calming down.
 
Not long after, her father found his way into the den and made himself comfortable across from Finley. As he reached out with his paw to poke at Lucy, the little ink-spot parted her mouth and emitted a very faint little ”peeep”.

Even through her very groggy state, Finley managed a smile and a soft beat of her tail against the ground as Lucy reached out to touch her nose to hers. She licked the girl beneath her chin as the babe wriggled happily, shuffling slightly to make room for her mate, but never once looking away from the teensy puppy. She was just so... cool.

At Elwood's quip, Finley gave a tired quirk of her lips. "He's lying. We've been having an affair for years," she replied, her voice hoarse from barely being used over the past week, "You're very dumb not to have noticed."

She tilted her head slightly, trying to reach for a memory that was blanketed in haze and unreadable in her mind, even though she knew it was there somewhere. "Did we name her?" she asked, indicating the inky cub. She glanced to the twins, remembering after a moment that these two were the ones they named for her siblings as was fitting since they looked the most Blackthorn of the trio. But this little spot... what did they call her again?

Almost as though she was participating in the conversation, Lucy made the cutest little sound. Elwood withdrew his paw, tucking it up against his chest as Finley commented on his apparent lack of intelligence. He stuck his tongue out at her, then crossed his eyes. "You right. Me dumb," he teased with a chuckle.

His expression softened as Finley eyed the three puppies and posed a question about the darkest babe. She had spent the last few days in a haze of sleep, so it didn't surprise him that she didn't know Lucy's name. In fact, this was probably the first real conversation he had had with her since before the birth.

He nodded gently. "Lucy," was his quiet reply. He still had no explanation really for where the title had come from, but it seemed to fit the small black cub.

Had the girl known, she would have found herself greatly offended that her mother could not recall her name. The birthing had been a frightening experience for the Blackthorn family, and the ink-spot remained blissfully unaware of how close she had come to losing Finley. As luck would have it, though, someone had been smiling on their little family that day. All were healthy and beautiful in their new birth, and they had a support system behind them that would allow them to grow into wonderful individuals.
 
But Lucy would give them a run for their money first.
 
After having her father’s paw pulled away from her tiny body, she had become quite curious as to how it had gotten there in the first place. Her blindness had allowed for very little discovery to occur, but the dark child had done well with her limited resources. In a valiant effort to regain her father’s limb, the ink-spot weebled and wobbled her little body in the direction of Elwood. Her head bobbed about in her attempts and she squeaked determinedly.

"Lucy..." Finley replied ponderously, rolling the name over her tongue. After a moment, she smiled softly and gave a nod. It did fit, for whatever reason.

Her gaze shifted to the two grey cubs snuggled quietly at her side, one of which had begun to wriggle a bit. She nudged the dark line of black along the little girl's spine to quiet her. "Three of them," Finley mused. She glanced again to her mate. "You think we can handle three?" There was humor in her tone, but nervous curiosity in her eyes. Raising Eljay had been a project Finley had just barely managed to complete, and most days she still wasn't sure if he'd actually reached adulthood. Now there were three...  Three.

The slightest movement from Lucy drew Elwood's gaze back to her, and he watched as she tottered towards him on unsteady legs. He smiled, simply observing for a few seconds, then he swept out his paw once more and hooked it around her, using it to pull her gently towards him. When she was resting safely between his forelegs, he kissed her softly between the ears.

Finley questioned their ability to handle the small group of infants, which prompted a firm nod of Elwood's head. He was worried, of course -- there were so many things that could go wrong. But Finley and the three babes had already survived the difficulties of birth; and besides, despite what had happened early on in Eljay's life, he had grown into a responsible and respected member of the pack. Sure, he was quirky, but now they had his assistance in raising his younger siblings. They were a united front.

"Absolutely," he responded confidently. He believed it, but felt like he needed to put on an extra brave face for Finley. "Besides, they're just so darn cute," he added in a lighter tone as he touched his nose to Lucy's.

The soot-spot’s journey had been cut short by the great sweeping of her father’s paw as he wrapped his limb around her and scooted her toward him. Once the little girl was planted firmly between his legs, her head wobbled around dizzily and she breathed a quiet little huff of air out of her mouth. A gentle kiss seemed to come from above, and so the tiny spot of ink pointed her nose upwards in surprise at the caress. The warmth of her father was far different from that of her mother, but she found it comforting all the same. Scooting herself forward just slightly so that her tiny little black hairs could be tickled by the thick tufts of grey fur on her father’s chest, the girl tried to nestle into his arm but could not find comfort there.
 
Arching her head back upward to face her dad in hopes that he might be able to make the bedding underneath her – which was no more than dirt and small rocks – more comfortable, she felt the wet of his nose touch to her own. A surprised little peeping noise was emitted from her mouth, but she did not back down from this newly discovered thing. Instead, she tried to nuzzle into his arm once more to see if he would return his nose and press it against her again.

Elwood's response was quick and confident and it was heartening to Finley. In many ways, she still didn't feel as though she would ever be a good mother to the kids she had now or the kids she'd have in the future (if they ever dared this one again - which they probably would, Fin is apparently a pushover). But Elwood, though... In many ways, he was parent enough for both of them. He'd even had the dad jokes down before he'd ever reproduced - a fact that she adored about him.

His comment about them made her laugh lightly. She watched Lucy snuggle happily into his arms and decided she wanted her own, and so she reached for the twins and took them into her own embrace. They squirmed in protest, but quieted quickly enough once she'd manuevered them into a comfortable, secure position against her chest. She nosed them each gently, marveling at their near perfect symmetry.

"Do twins run in your family?" Fin asked with a bit more clarity than she'd mustered before. Her laughter seemed to have cleared her mind somewhat and she was feeling more awake with each passing minute.

Little Lucy wiggled and squirmed between Elwood's forelegs, trying to get comfortable and reacting to the sensory stimuli he provided to her. He was delighted by the soft squeak she uttered, presumably in response to the touch of his nose. Rather than do it again, he gave her another gentle kiss, his gaze straying to watch as Finley gathered Tiarnach and Caoilfhionn in her arms.

"I guess so," he replied with a laugh, admiring the identical bundles of grey. "I don't know of any twins other than me and my sister, so we must've started the trend." His gaze strayed to the trademark streak of black down each pup's back, then he glanced down to snuffle Lucy's dark fur adoringly. Someone had gone a little heavy on the paint when attempting to give her the Blackthorn stripe and had unwittingly doused her in the color.

"What about the stripes? Do all Blackthorns have that?" he asked.

Elwood and his sister had been twins, and for a moment she wondered if she had known that. When the memory came of him mentioning it before, Fin nodded and smiled faintly at his comment. She wondered if this meant that there were more twins destined in their future, or maybe grandkid twins. Would she have grandkids? She brushed the thought away easily. Eljay was only a year old so it was far too soon to think about. There was also the matter of her son's timid personality that would likely prove to be a hindrance for him when seeking a mate, but he had made great strives so far in his life and would continue to do so, she was certain.

Her ears pricked slightly when Elwood asked about the stripe, and it took Fin only a moment of pondering before she could answer. "Unless the new generations have decided to rebel, then yes," she replied, "Sometimes they aren't as bold as with these two. And who knows, maybe Mom and Dad actually painted some onto some of my siblings, but yeah they usually have some sort of obvious stripe along the spine."

"My older sister actually was the first to earn the nickname of 'Spine', in fact. Never did understand why she deserved it more than the rest of us. Maybe just cause she was oldest... Or was Turq oldest?" Finley paused thoughtfully, then shook her head, "I can never remember who actually popped out first. I wasn't there, you see."  She leaned down to stick her muzzle right between the twins, smiling slightly as she turned to bump into her nose with squeaks and snuffles at this new obstruction.

Elwood listened attentively as Finley shared her family's backstory. With Lucy nestled between his forelegs, he felt like he had never been happier -- he loved his little family, and he loved their history. They had honored a Grove tradition by naming their first-born Elwood Jr, and now they were doing the same for the Blackthorns with Tiarnach and Caoilfhionn.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. Spine had been the first to earn a nickname, which had most likely then led to the others -- Colt, Tiger, Frog. He blinked down at the three puppies, his gaze drifting slowly between them, and then asked, "What about nicknames for these little guys? Especially Caoilfhionn and Tiarnach -- if we don't nickname them ourselves, then Peregrine's going to call them Terragon and Cauliflower their whole lives."

In spite of her lack of hearing, sight, and speech, the girl found the touch of her father to be quite soothing for her. There was something strange about the way she could feel his words through his chest, though she did not know that he was speaking them. It acted as a sort of lullaby for the girl and while her parents continued to talk to each other – the twins carefully tucked against Finley – Lucy found herself being lulled into a warm slumber. The gentle kiss from her father was all that it took for the soot-ball to find her heavy eyes closing and her tiny frame tucked against his lengthy limbs and chest. His tufts of fur tickled against her, but she did not make an effort to move away from them. The little girl feared that if she did, she would not be able to feel his voice through his chest.
 
Being so small allowed for her to nap when she wished, and though she would have liked to have felt the vibrations a while longer, her eyes were protestant and were demanding that she sleep. So she buried herself into the warmth of her father and breathed one last sigh before she drifted away into a very deep slumber.

*ties a neat little bow on this thread*

Elwood's question hung in the air for a moment, and when Finley did finally answer, he almost didn't hear her. His gaze was lovingly pinned on the now-slumbering Lucy, watching the gentle rise and fall of her dark sides and the twitching of her eyelids that indicated deep sleep.

But he did look up, and he smiled. When the parents took their own nap a short time later, the twins had new nicknames: Liffey and Lagan.