Average was probably the best word to describe the boy as he was now. The white on his muzzle and eyes had not yet settled in, no more than a splotch on his chin for the time being; he was simply a bundle of dark fur as things were now. His size was slightly above average, but not so much that one would think much of it, to emphasise how average he was.
He lay by his mother's side, contently suckling beside his sisters, for the time being. Nikai was not a very fussy child; he had his moments, but it was easy to tell what he needed and he would be appeased as soon as he received what he was looking for.
At just a few days old, there was little more that the tiny, quiet form of Witchhazel could do. She didn't know her name, the meaning of family or the fact that her's was already broken, or the dark woods that she lived in. The little newborn didn't know anything other than suckling from the form of warmth that had created her, not even the three bundles she was born after. The youngest girl was fairly quiet, too, having only made one or two noises in her few days of real life.
Today, she was in a rare moment of movement. Such things were still limited to sliding on her belly, propelled by stubs later called legs. She was doing good, even slow, until her lowered crown bumped into the unseen form of her eldest brother.
There was little in this world, as of now, but her mother, and her siblings, the dark and quiet. Ears were sealed, as were eyes, and no sight nor hearing was yet known to the girl. She was, at this point, quite average. Dirty, round, occasionally loud, and frankly not very interesting. She had not yet discovered much other than the two other blobs and the warm lump. And the cold. She had rolled away, hours ago, while her mother slept, and such a horrible feeling had come over her. But her mother had woken, nudging her back into place, and the warmth had filled her again. Yet, what remained was a fear, a primal one, of the cold.
But now she was warm, and full, and awake, and her memories of the short-lived event already faded. She let out a small, content sound, rolling into one of her siblings, landing on her back with her paws flailing as if in slow motions above her.
A grunt of complaint escaped him as his sibling bumped into him. Then the child let go of the teat and turned its head towards his sibling.
At that moment he felt the paws of his other sibling as she lifted them to the air. He wiggled over to Keoni's side and lay down next to her, belly to the ground, letting out a satisfied grunt at the instant warmth given.
Witch squeaked at the contact, shying with a puff of air from her tiny nostrils. It was then that a great weight crashed upon her butt, and for the first time, the cream girl let out a high-pitched wail laced with anger. It didn't hurt, but it was not one of the things that made her happy. There wasn't much she could do about it though, much as she wiggled and slapped her tiny paws against the den floor.
Her siblings. Later to be known as sister, and brother, they were little to her now but small points of warmth in the cold world. They made noise, not heard but felt. A small form was beside her, another somewhere, but she didn't care. She liked upside down, it was a fun feeling. To make it even better, she begun to scream. She liked the feeling of screaming, screeching, and did it at random for no apperently reason. Her paws waved above her as she let out a whole symphony of fun screeching sounds, staying near to her brother and mother for the satisfying warmth that came with them. Unaware of the minor tantrum her sister was having, she simply continued making noise.
He stayed close by Keoni's side, unaware of the problems his other sister was encountering. No more than satisfied grunts escaped him as he huddled close to Keoni despite her movement and excitement; he stayed there, and eventually he started to fall asleep, drowsy from the satisfaction of milk.
It was then that Witchhazel began to scream, yelp, wail, cry, howl and anything else that would bring attention.
It wasn't the purposeless wail that her sister had going on, this one demanded someone stepped in and
did something. Since
@Althaia was the only living parent she had, the responsibility was hers.
Witch
kept screaming, too, and would until something got this weight off of her butt. The creamy potato couldn't move till it was gone, and she was
hungry.
It was very likely to her sister's discontent that she fall asleep on the comfortable pillow, full and happy, cooing happily as her eyes slid shut. Within a few moments, the girl was asleep, comfortable and warm.