In the middle of the night, Kikimora woke with a belly ache. It was not anything like the pangs of hunger she'd experienced, those that urged her to paddle and suckle. This was something else, and she did not understand the discomfort.
She wriggled around, dragging herself out from among siblings to seek the attention of an adult who might soothe her aching gut.
Fiona did not have the innate ability to care for children like Heda seemed to, but she knew enough about their growth and development to keep them alive and healthy. One of them—a black and white one—squirmed free from the group, making it known in that wolf cub way that she wanted something.
The witch nudged her close, inspecting her for any abnormalities. She wasn't sure if this was one of Druid's or one of Heda's, but perhaps at this point it didn't really matter. All six of them were being nursed by both, and as far as Fiona was concerned, they were all useless lumps.
Kikimora squirmed, restless with the tension in her abdomen, and lifted her head to blink up at the adult who stepped closer. She was someone the youngster dud not recognise yet her presence within the den did not seem to upset the providers.
As her tiny body was nudged and examined, from her came a small sound - one that asked for help.
The useless lump wasn't particularly articulate. Which is to say she said nothing at all. Instead, she merely made sad, pitiful sounds. Well, what's going on with you then?
Fiona asked quietly, as not to disturb anybody else. She knew full well she might as well be talking to a squishy, fuzzy, whimpering rock. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary from the outside, at least. If anything was the matter with her, Fiona couldn't tell from here. Maybe, with all the instability in the den, there was something else going on in that tiny little noggin.