Sleeping Dragon governed by sound reason and true religion

Vague post is vague. Any and all pups welcome!

It's nightfall when Gavriel returns with a kill, splitting it with Gyda before they both take their positions but not before he's encouraged to spend a little more time with them. They've eaten not long ago and are, for the most part, quiet. A smile lingers on her features as he settles into the den, a little cramped with the both of them, but inspects the wiggling bodies again. 

He gently noses @Freyja first and she wiggles to the touch, and ultimately moves down the line to @Hvitserk. His quietness a good sign, but unpredictable, from what little he's been informed. His concern remains, despite what capable hands the boy is in. Gavriel spends a moment longer on the boy, licking him along his back gently. @Eske is nestled up parallel with Gyda and @Thyri is digging into her sister for her own comfortable spot. 

He watches them, lowering his head to the ground, and feels a swell in his chest over the things he's helped create.

Unsurprising considering her energy, Freyja was developing fast. She spent slightly less time snuggled to warm adult fur and more time wriggling away from them in search of adventure. Things were beginning to smell different, but Rey was more interested in their taste — and had developed a real thing for gumming claws. The most recent claw was a claw she had never gummed on before, but she didn't know that. She just knew that it was gumming time, and she didn't mind that there was no milk involved, because her fluffy belly was still swollen from her most recent feeding. So on she gummed, her bottom half wriggling lightly, fully intent upon growing a very fine set of teeth one day.

The boy had unintentionally cut back on the amount of milk being ingested during each feeding, as well as decreased the speed at which he'd consumed it. He didn't know what caused the pain in his stomach, but he knew that the milk didn't help it—so maybe it made the sensation worse? Hvit hadn't the slightest clue, of course, but instincts alone continued to control his little body for the time being. Survive, avoid pain, and prevent injury. He could do those things, for the feelings that triggered certain actions insisted that he could. Thus far, things seemed to be working well for him, too, but little did he know that his own actions were not the only ones to have assisted his health. Never would he, perhaps, unless someday told otherwise; though even if he was eventually told of the situation he'd been in, there was no guarantee he'd believe it or even bother to remember throughout the rest of his life.

During the day, he'd been well enough, or at least more so than usual. His crying had been minimal, eventually having been reduced to a few little sniffles before sleep overcame him. He'd stayed asleep, too, up until the point in which he'd felt a tongue glide across his back. The familiar texture had awoken him, causing his head to raise as he nosed around at the air, seeking the source of his disturbance. Still was he blind, his eyes having yet to open up, and so he was able to do little more than crawl about in an effort to bump into whatever had touched him. Unable to figure out from where it'd come, he'd ended up dragging his body forward until his head had bumped into a leg—or was it a body? It was Gavriel's right forelimb that had earned a little headbutt from the boy, but he could no better tell the limb apart from his sisters' bodies than he could see.

It went unnoticed to Eske if she was the first of her siblings to open their eyes or not — but she was finding that she gave more thought to the other blurred potatoes that she would come to call her siblings now that she could see them. Well, kind of, anyway. Her eye sight was about as good as her hearing which wasn't very yet...but it was definitely there and progressing in the right direction. They could say what they wanted about the youngest — call her the runt, if it so pleased them — but Eske was the spear of the Gods and she had a fight within her that rivaled the mythological beast her home was named for. She was a dragon ...she was a grounder princess, after all. She'd fed until she was full, suckling happily as she kneaded idly at the long and soft fur of her mother's belly. A small comforting gesture. One could only hope that Eske didn't throw a temper tantrum that would put Thor to shame.

She didn't particularly crave attention at the moment and with her belly full of Gyda's milk. Thyri was digging into her and Eske'd had about as much of ugh, cuddling as she could take before she was attempting to free herself from her sister. Eske army crawled her way around the den, careful not to bump into one of the other potatoes as she made her great escape. Admittedly, she didn't get very far for the mouth — such a curiosity to the girl who had yet to walk, or even see to her full capacity admittedly — of the den was blocked by her father. Eske didn't recognize him as such yet but she blinked her milky, blue eyes up at him and squinted. Let me out! She babbled at him, hoping that he understood baby talk better than she understood adult talk.

It doesn’t take long for him to be overrun with puppies. Freyja shuffles out of the line after feeding and makes her way toward him—at least, he thinks that one is Freyja—and she finds a particular liking to his toe. She gums against his claw and he snorts warm air against her back before another shows up and barges right into him. Not that it hurt, or anything, with a lumpy puppy running into his leg, but he puts his attention on him for a few seconds and licks across his face. From what he’s heard, he’s glad to see the boy wiggling and doing what puppies do (or what Gavriel assumed puppies do, at least) and his other leg free of Freyja’s suckles scoops him in to his chest.

Senseless babbling catches his attention as the smallest of the litter protests, her eyes open a blurry shade of blue. She may have been the last born, but it doesn’t stop her from accomplishing some things first, and while her protests to him being in the way go undetected, he scoops in the little girl as well. Thyri, once she gets what she wants, remains content and passes out against Gyda while the swarm of other puppies overrun him.

Freyja enjoyed chowing down on that claw for as long as she was allowed, but after a tickley warm breeze on her back, she moved her attention elsewhere. Things were happening somewhere, somewhere else, and if it involved wiggling then she was there. So she began an expedition up the adult male's furry body, struggling and squirming but pointedly not giving up.

Butting against the other thing hadn't harmed him, or really even bothered him for that matter. He'd moved of his own free will, and had met a slight blockage as per usual. What had really thrown him through a loop, however, was when he'd been pulled up close against a warm object. The familiar feeling of fur brushing up against his face had been somewhat comforting, but he'd been aware enough to recognize that it was different. Though soft, it wasn't mommy-soft, and so he'd felt distraught for a fleeting second as he'd tried to figure out who—or what—had taken him away. Would he ever be returned to his milk-giver again? It was the only question capable of being present within his mind, for the boy could currently operate only when under strict instructions from his stomach. The idea alone that it might never be filled again had really rocked his world, causing young Hvitserk to let out a sharp cry.

The wail had lasted for less than a second, all sounds from the boy having been cut off immediately. For there in that moment, his eyes had managed to peel themselves open for the very first time, the stress of the situation having been the cause. While he could see nothing more than blurry shadows, it had been enough to ease his worries. There was another large shadow within his home that was not the one that had pulled him close, which could only mean that he wasn't being taken away from his nutrients. Relocated, yes, but not forever. That pleased him greatly, too, and so quiet would Hvit remain.

Eske's demands went ignored and the Grounder Princess let her internal frustration out in a snort and a small groan of protest when Gavriel pulled her in with her sister and brother. Yet, to her delight — enough to make her forget her discontent at not being able to venture outside — she remembered him. He smelled different then Gyda, different then Thuringwethil or Wildfire but his presence was a source of comfort to her just as the other adults: the ones that were slowly becoming her family. Or that was how she would understand them to be. They were the constants in her life, alongside her own siblings, and the bonds were already being forged. She let out a small “hrumph” (her favorite “word” for the moment) and licked absently at her paw, letting Gavriel know that she wasn't amused that he'd ignored her demands. One day...one day Eske vowed, she would adventure out into that light whether she had permission or not. Today would not be the day...but soon. In the meantime, she was content to pretend like she didn't notice her father or her siblings.

There's something overwhelming about the puppies swarming him, battling against one another without realizing it. Freyja scoots her way up the length of his arm while Hvitserk lets out a cry, concern lacing him enough that he doesn't see Eske's frustration. He's prepared to grab Gyda on what to do but slowly, his eye lids peel back and Gavriel's own widens in surprise. Eske's had been open already and he glances to her to compare. He returns to give the boy a few licks, wobbling his head in the process before he does the same to the other two.

Gavriel heaves a sigh, a satisfied smile on his face, as he watches them grow and change before his eyes. There's a part of him that wants to do this every day, be apart of their lives, be their father but there's something that tugs at the back of his mind he's inclined to (at least for the time being) to ignore. With a thud of his tail, he buries his face between the puppies playfully while he growls and rumbles his taunts.

To Rey's intense delight, there proceeded an earthquake. Not a literal one, but a growl from the adult male, a soft growl low in his chest that made her cease her wiggling for one moment. Then that moment passed and she squirmed amusedly on the spot, utterly tickled, and omitting what could only be described as a babyish giggle.

Silent, he'd unknowingly started to experiment with his newfound ability. He'd blinked a few times, squeezing his eyes shut tighter than necessary on occasion. When a tongue had been drawn over his face a handful of times, he'd tried his best to ignore the calming gesture, blinking several times after and then shaking his head—which had been a terribly planned move, for he'd nearly toppled over in the process of having done so. Thankfully, he'd not fallen onto his side, and was instead left to try and figure out what was going on. He'd wanted to understand what it was that had happened to him, and why he could suddenly bear witness to more than just solid darkness. It was most unusual, but since no one else had seemed bothered by it, his mind had quickly slipped onto something else.

Something was placed near to him, and from it there had come a feeling unlike any other. His body had trembled, feeling the gentle vibrations that had come with the playful growling. Not knowing what to do about it, he'd raised up a forelimb in an attempt to swat at wherever the disturbance had come from, only to miss entirely and have his tiny paw smack back down onto the ground.

Her grumpy-pants ploy to get attention ultimately failed. It seemed in her attempt to ignore the existence of her father and siblings she hadn't prepared to be ignored in the process. In fact, it wasn't something she'd anticipated. The seconds ticked by as she groomed herself in a way that resembled a feline's, and she slowly realized that it hadn't worked! No one had rolled or bumped into her, Gavriel had not done anything. A childish rage rose beneath the Grounder Princess' skin, hot in her chest (because being ignored was not something she was used to) in her equally as childish selfishness, and she rounded on them in time to feel the vibrations of Gavriel's growl. Eske contemplated ignoring it — and not this time because she wanted the attention — but the grump rose from her spot and moved closer, towards Gavriel and Freyja.

Freyja’s giggles delighted him and he couldn’t help but give them in return while Hvitserk too a moment to adjust. He doesn’t even realize what just occurred as he runs his nose between them, content with the two for a moment that he doesn’t see Eske at first. When the dark blob comes into view, he picks his head up just as his son his waving a paw at him and his daughter comes even closer. He shifts his weight and awkwardly moves a paw to sweep behind her, scooping her up into the puppy pile of two other puppies where his content to remain.