Sun Mote Copse everybody's waiting—everybody's watching

Otter's eyes opened on her fifteenth morning of life. It was still early morning, the sun had yet to rise, and the early-morning light had yet to creep into the den. She could sense that something had changed, and as she swung her head around, she realized that there were blurry shapes materializing as she looked around. It was startling and overwhelming; she gave a low whine and rubbed her eyes, feeling the area on her face that'd previously been shut.