Mallaidh’s routine is not often interrupted and when it is, it’s usually by the cries of one of her siblings. The bigger forms come and go and she’s gotten used to the disruption as it happens a few times a day. She cries less as she slips into a realm of contentment she realizes as something new: boredom. She’s been awake for several minutes before she realizes something is
different. Having become complacent blinded her to the fact she could
see. Well, not really; there’s light. The lids of her right eye are no longer fused as the day is much brighter. It has been a gradual grow (not that she realizes it) as her eye slowly opened over a day or more until finally they’d opened for one, milky blue eye. Her left has already begun but the separation does not allow any light through yet and it won’t be for another day until it opens too.
Sirius was wandering where he was
not supposed to be. In the short-sightedness of youth, he could not remember very well whether or not Hemlock had assigned limits to the places he was allowed to wander, but he knew he was far from her. This alone made the boy uncomfortable. He'd lost his mother (and the rest of his family, who were slightly less clear in his mind), and the ordeal had left him with a deep emotional wound. The lack of familiar faces around him was making him nervous, and the more he wandered, the more agitated he became.
Soon enough, though, he saw and heard and smelled signs of his packmates. Sirius made a beeline for the King Sequoia, not knowing that he was intruding on protected grounds. The young boy scampered into the safety of the den without much thought, failing to announce himself or even offer a huff of greeting before he barreled into
@Lotte's side.
He blinked owlishly at the woman -
familiar, he thought - before catching sight of the dark bundle of fur nearby.
"Bubby!" he exclaimed, popping to his paws and starting toward the young girl. To do
what was anyone's guess.
Too much happens at once and her inability to process any of it in a timely manner is obvious. Her limbs stiffen and she opens her mouth to cry at the sudden burst of movement. Even her new eyesight doesn’t aid her struggles, offering nothing more than light and their contrast. She can’t distinguish between the two bodies, either, until her mother has settled close and the presence of the boy is there in a lumpy shadow of her vision but she knows not to take her attention away. Something tells her he shouldn’t be there but her detective skills are set aside as she leans back against the closest part of her mother she can find.
Mallaidh’s single eye widens when she hears the voice coming from her mother. Her features are not defined more than being a blob before her, temporarily forgetting the others around her. The words are directed at her and she finds comfort in them as she scoots as close as she can, burying herself in the depths of her thick fur, and finding it easy to drift between sleep and consciousness without much complain.