Two Eyes Cenote bodysnatchers

i crave a puptato thread! welcome to any/all MR + AKS members however <3 attn: @Safiya @Kiyya @Kheti @Tiye @Khusobek

the early days of motherhood were proving to be agonizing.
the oxytocin of birth had now begun to fade into a constant anxiety that felt as if it were looming over her head. the children were tireless; always wanting, always needing. if it was not milk from her sore breast, it was an accident she must clean, or needing to rock one to sleep, or some other haphazard event that prevented her from getting rest.
khusobek, dear khusobek; he tries, but she feels as though both of them are clueless. how are you meant to read the minds of your children? how are you meant to know if you're caring for them properly?
how are you meant to know if you're a good mother?

the way i had a thread draft of my own to post today LOL ill just slap it here

when tiye was thrusted out into this world so suddenly, so violently, her first task — given to her by the divine — as fellahin was simple: thrive.
and she did it well. 
the russet-dipped baby found the warmest nook closest to the milk, so that she may eat, sleep, (poop,) and grow quickly. best of all, none of the other wriggling bodies (none as clever as her) could disturb her. and if her mother ever dared to ruin her meticulous plan, tiye was blessed with strong lungs so that she may demand her mother's swift return.
for now, she lays curled up near her spot. she fusses at any movement, threatening a tantrum if all does not go as she'd wanted.

despite lacking any ambulatory prowess at this point in his life kiyya tries. he does not sleep for long periods like some children might. his focus appears to be upon the act of lifting his head high or getting his feet beneath himself, even though he cannot see and he cannot hear. he struggles and fails repeatedly and yet he does not stop trying.

failure leads to the boy flailing on his back, or from time to time he grows so frustrated that he punches with those little fists, but he rarely cries out for help and appears determined to fix the problem himself, which only leads to puppy piles and further upset.

The red girl was quiet in her movements. She was a bit more timid than her siblings. However, every brow beat, kick in her teeth. She made a mental note of it. Or well for that day. Though quite often it slipped from her thoughts like water.

She shifted and shyed away from the one nearest her. Little blind body moving and wiggling. Or so she thought. Really she was simply moving a paw or an ear.

How dare they all shift her about like she was a package.

he did not remember fatherhood.

for khusobek, so much of this was new. hatshepsuun had kept him busy in many regards. their children had been raised by his wife and his concubine and the bevy of nursemaids he had hired to help them. the crocodile hardly remembered the sound of their voices, and for this, he would pay before Ma'at.

but now as he reached out to reestablish kiyya in a more comfortable way, he smiled at his wife's tired radiance and felt as though he had not known peace before now.

peace before her. before them.

they ate. they grew. he could ask for no more from the gods.

When he slept, his world was filled with fire, his body a spear of purple gold. Perhaps, some remnants of the sun god still remained behind closed eyes, but each dream would crumble to dust when he awoke.

In between dozing, suckling and being rudely awoken by someone's flailing limb, the boy tested the limits of his new body. His legs were weak and stubby and couldn't yet hold the weight of his rotund figure, his eyes and ears were still blind to the waking world. But his nose - it whispered every secret to him. 

The scent of milk was home. Mother. Two sweet smelling lumps. Sisters. Earthy tang. Brother. And a perfume that came and went with the breeze. The brunt of his curiosity was thrust onto this more unfamiliar smell - once he was within range his toothless gums began to explore whatever parts of his father he could reach.

her children wriggle and wrestle amongst themselves. tiye, ever the little diva, is quiet for the time being. kiyya fights a war with himself, and inji laughs as khusobek adjusts him, only for little kheti to go on the attack. and safiya, the darling; always quiet, nowhere near as rowdy as her littermates! the new mother wonders if she should be concerned.
the boys are already trying to wrestle with you, her brow smooths as she looks to her betrothed, softening as she drinks in his lovely face. his silent presence calms her. do you think i should ask tavina about safiya? she's a little-- i don't know, quiet. do you think she's quiet? is that-- a good thing?

"speak to the physician if it will set you at ease. but silence is its own virtue. she sleeps, she eats, she grows," the crocodile pointed out gently. "she is healthy."

he raised his paws, to wrestle again! laughter was in his eyes.