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only for those who would be close to the den -- so babies of course and @Mou and @Jakoul would be welcome as well <3

@Vesper, @Prevost, @Peregrine.

Of course, she didn't know them by those names. She hadn't named them at all; it felt wrong, somewhat, to give them something she had no rights to. But Niamh had not given any indication of her wishes on that front, and so they remained nameless for now. 

They were beautiful, though. Two girls and a boy, a trio of lovely children. They each were different and yet similar, varying shades of dark and ruddy. Their mother had been golden, so the father must be either dark or ruddy, she thought.

Unknown father—though it had been Mou who had pulled them from the womb; he had the best claim to fatherhood there was. 

And as for their mother. . . Maegi had been so occupied with the babies that she had not yet visited the grave. She would, eventually, leave spring flowers there. Perhaps seed some directly, so that there was beauty where the woman lay beneath the earth, a more fitting tribute than cold, bare soil.

For now, she tended to three beautiful children, grooming them from time to time and helping their blind bodies toward a nipple when they needed. She barely slept, and ate only to keep her milk flowing.

She watched them, constantly, and found herself smiling more often than not. They reminded her of her first litter: Anansi and the twins. 

Maegi vowed to do better, this time.
  No matter how much cleansing was done to the little ones fur, the “blood” of her mother never washed off the bottom half. The red cut off the white stripes on either side of the potato’s body. This would forever be a reminder of the mother she will never meet.  
 Prevost cooed softly at the warmth that Maegi gave her body, the sense of safety made her little limbs relax. Slowly she nudged around her sibling to find the source of the sweet substance that nature made her crave. For now, Prevost was content but only time would tell if all was well. 
others are welcome to join at any time :)

One of them was making noise—one of the two girls, the one who, when cleaned up, appeared to not merely be dark, but instead adorned in crimson. It reminded her of the halfway point between the dark ruddy pelt of her daughter Sakhmet, and the flame-touched fur of her old friend Reed.

Hello, little one, she whispered, drawing her tongue over the tiny charcoal head. She still smelled so fresh; it was amazing, given the bloodied, violent nature of her birth, how pure she was in every way.

But of course she was—she had no fault in this world. Whatever bad things had brought Niamh to the island, whatever horrors Mou had inflicted upon the body to bring the pups out, whatever came next. . .this small girl was not at fault. Pure, innocent, clean.

It was, perhaps, the greatest reason for her love of children: that they were without sin. They were helpless and needy, but to give herself in service to them and allow Jaes to watch over them was an honor beyond words.

Maegi smiled, muzzle still pressed against the pup. You are perfect, she breathed, stirring the down-fine fur there.
it was content, for lack of a better word. the world had changed, yes, but its every need continued to be met - and it had learned quickly that if a need was not met, it could expel air in a certain way to make a sound and all would be made right. how blessed, to will something and experience it manifested so rapidly.

the others from before were in this new world, too. it felt more distant from them in many ways, but the others also seemed to be in sharper focus. they had edges now and when they nestled close, it felt almost like the way the world had been before. one of them cooed, and moved, and then a gentle vibration - from something much larger - washed over them all. it relaxed, nestling closer to the warmth that guarded them all.
oops! posting since Prevost went inactive

She sometimes grew very existential in her thinking, when she looked at the pups. She had no memories of this time, save perhaps a gnawing, desperate, constant hunger—for milk, and for love her mother would never give. It was only when she became old enough to toddle around the Glen did she remember things, and even then, only fragments:

Bones. Feather. Vaati. Tee-hee.

Maybe it was for the best that Maegi couldn't draw those times to mind. And with age, they, too, would forget. But Maegi hoped that whatever slivers of memory remained were good ones. She wanted to give them the comfort and happiness that she and her brothers had never received. 

Got off to a rough start, she remarked, both wry and rueful, and her smile was very crooked.
my last post in this thread. potats are hard!!

it stirred gently at the vibrations emanating from the source of its warmth, but it did not yet understand— only that this frequency meant safety, warmth, contentedness. it would not remember much from this time, only feelings and ghostly waves of nostalgia; perhaps if it ever had pups of its own, it would remember more. its birth would have no lasting effect on its life, except perhaps as a story if it were ever to be shared. its life would be shaped by these following weeks and months, not the violent entrance it had endured to exist within this world.