Wheeling Gull Isle by the light of a burning donkey

set for tomorrow!

unbeknownst to the growing child, she had awoken this morning to another change. the milky blue of her infant eyes was fading, growing slightly darker and duller— and a fleck of orange now shone in her left eye, like a tiny flame on a matchstick.

she stretched with an elongated yawn, feet pressing against some of her siblings (@Blueberry, @Prevost, @Peregrine) or parents (@Mou, @Maegi). she remained there, lazy as sleep ebbed away.

Mou's vigilance over the growing children had heightened since the arrival of his brother. He had made sure to get the man settled before seeking out Maegi to explain the situation, and together they wallowed in a state of anxiety while trying to mind the kids.

The tiny yawn of a small dark face drew Mou's eye. He sniffed at the air above the child, inspecting them in silence, before drawing away like some kind of lethargic dragon. A sound outside of the den piqued his interest next so his ears pivoted, his shoulders tensing.

i was hoping vesper would get time with father-uncle!

vesper felt father move and flipped to her back as he exhaled, his breath warm and humid. hunger roared awake in the child, a pavlovian response, for he often returned with meat and fed her regurgitated meals as she weaned. though maegi had provided her children with milk and sustenance for her entire life thus far, new associations were forming: mother was safety, warmth, calm, and father was strength, food, security.

(mostly food.)

she heard the same sound as mou. between that, her hunger, and father's sudden tension, it was enough to rouse vesper fully. the others were beginning to stir, but she selfishly wanted his attention all to herself— and she wanted out of the den.

dada, she said in a stage whisper, shifting now to her feet, head hanging lowly to watch him in the dim light of the den. 'n we go? meat? she was still too young to accompany him on a true hunt, but perhaps he would take her to a cache.

When nothing came of the sound, Mou turned his attention back to his daughter. It felt wrong to consider her as such; she was his niece, he corrected — but then his eye was trained upon her little soot-colored face, and he saw his dead son Hypnos staring back at him.

Dada, said the child softly. Mou's heart ached; he swung his long face close so that he loomed over her and drew in a breath of her fresh puppy scent, not yet corrupted by the smell of ash, blood, or death. Her request was met with a small smile, one which tugged awkwardly at the corners of his mouth.

Yes, meat. He answered, only to glance to her sleeping siblings. We'll be quiet. Our little secret.

vesper swallowed back a yip of excitement, tail wagging her entire body as she touched noses with the wolf she knew as father. another stage whisper— ets go, dada!

without waiting for him to maneuver around the den, the darkling marched toward the den's entrance as quietly as she could, her large ears alert and eyes wide as she stepped into the open air. she hadn't forgotten the sound, but felt more courage with mou at her flank.

Mou barely managed to rise up to half height by the time Vesper had found the den mouth, and he spun hastily, lurching after her like a bull in a china shop; taking more care not to trample the rest of the sleeping children in the process, and emerging in to the light where he could shield the girl with the length of his body overhead.

There came the sound again but sharper, as it was closer and they were both no longer held within the den and its muffling walls. It was a tap-tap--taptap! It came from further ahead, and some ways up, at the crook of thick branches reaching from a nearby tree.

He looked around as best he could with his one eye, and only managed to spot the flicker at the last moment, as it began to tap again. Seeing as the creature was not a threat to them, Mou ducked his head back down and snuffled over Vesper's dark shoulders.