Arrow Lake What are people but deaths that haven't happened yet?
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#1
All Welcome 
Would love a @Mahler babysitting thread so loosely powerplaying Aure, her tag is for reference. Vaguely forward dated a couple days.

As his life rolled inexorably on and on, Dragomir spent less time in the countless realities of his mind and more time in the tangible reality of the present. He still dipped into them now and again—he awoke this morning as a tiny wolf cub, after having fallen asleep as a thousand-thousands year old glacier—but the frequency of these episodes was rapidly dwindling. Coinciding with this was an uptick in Dragomir's activity levels; he was awake far more often than even a few days ago.

He'd become rather proficient at peddling himself around the den with his sturdy forelimbs, and was doing exactly that when @Aure stepped out of the thicket to get some air, leaving the babes in the capable paws of one of their sitters. He booty-scooted along in the breeze whisked up by his mother's departure, then slammed right into something warm and fluffy, unbalancing himself and toppling over on his side with a disgruntled squeak.
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Ooc — ebony
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#2
All Welcome 
the motherdove had taken up mahler’s offer, which pleased him immensely. the thicket held the last vestiges of birth, a warm place mostly scented with milk and the downy fragrance of newborns. comforting to that harried core in mahler, the proverbial chest wherein he had locked away the memories of his own children.
he lay across the denmouth, aurëwen having gone to find a handful of moments belonging solely to herself for once. it was into his tall forearm that little dragomir collided, and an amused smile crossed the shadowpriest’s muzzle as he dipped over to ensure that the boy was not injured. 
”you vill be able to run outside before you know it, little dragon. but for now you must stay inside, ja? it is safer here.” mahler spoke conversationally to dragomir, shifting round until the child was between his forelegs, and casting a glance at the dozing isi.
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Ooc — mercury
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#3
please skip me; he's just making a cameo

He knew Mahler had been present at the birth, helping with delivery, but that didn't mean that Vercingetorix trusted the midwife enough to watch his children. When the dark-furred man settled by the den, Verx approached, a silent shadow, sitting in the shade of a small tree nearby.

His eyes were gimlet as he watched the scene, muscles tensed and ready to spring at a moment's notice. Of course, any omniscient narrator should know that his fears were irrational. But that information wasn't available to the former cheka, and so his worries continued.
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He struggled to right himself momentarily, disoriented and unable to collect his limbs beneath him. Lucky for Dragomir that Mahler was present; the man's shifting sent subtle vibrations through the earth that served to calm the boy. Once calmed, he was able to remember the necessary motions to get himself back to his belly. It was a slow and arduous task, seeming to take hours to his perception. In reality it was only a sad few moments where he flailed slowly, then sloooowly tipped himself over from his side.

Once he was properly situated, now placed between the midwife's forelimbs, Dragomir was able to spare some attention for his surroundings. Aure's scent was all around, confounding him; the departure of his mother was not noted. Mahler's scent differed from hers and Isi's and Verx's enough that he was curious about it; stretching his wobbly head forward on a still-weak neck, the neonate sniffed tentatively, mewling as he drew himself forward once more into the broad expanse of Mahler's breast.
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Ooc — ebony
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vercingetorix's presence was noted but unaddressed; mahler respected the man for not trusting hims straightaway. it was what he too would have done, if this was his own brood and the former seawolf still very much a stranger. lowering the broad heaviness of his muzzle, he nosed across the downy hairs of dragomir's tiny head as the boy sought to map the planes of his chest.
there had been a time he had held his own children like this; why why why did thoughts of them always arise these days? the gargoyle knew the reason; the stab of anguish in his chest was no less sharp for the understanding. three of them there had been, fine and hale as this boy and his sister were. such a bad end they had met, an unfair end. but memories remained, and one such was how they had lain against his chest.
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The descent of Mahler's whiskered muzzle was heralded by a soft gust of air over Dragomir's velveteen fur. He peeped first when the breeze brushed the top of his head, then louder when the Kapitän's nose pressed gentle on his scalp. As with all others who touched his head, Dragomir let his head plummet to the earth in an effort to avoid the touch, and then he rolled arduously to his side.

Once there, wobbling precariously on his tubby side, the newborn stretched his toes—as bright pink as his nose, a stark contrast against his inky black fur—curiously toward the reminiscing Mahler's whiskered lips.
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dragomir attempted to evade him, pawing with tiny feet toward the man's lips. mahler humoured the boy with a rush of breath across the miniscule toes, glancing again to see that the little sister remained asleep. "you are a very curious boy," the gargoyle commented, lowering his muzzle beyond the kicking limbs to tickle the miniature dragon's rotund side. "and fat, vich is a good thing. little children should be very fat." a smile warmed the lilac gems set in the musiker's face, and he tried for a second tickling attempt, wondering if the duckling was old enough to be amused or merely annoyed.
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Dragomir fell more often into Camp Simply Annoyed, but lacked the means to properly convey it, so it came off instead as a cute protest whenever anyone touched him without permission. Permission which he could not give, so it was merely implied by the compelling plumpness of his sides and the rabbit-like softness of his fur. Mahler's first attempt at a tickle pried something resembling a giggling squawk from him, but the second was met with a shriek.

It was with an almost feline grace that he managed to spring himself from his side to his back. It was probably the only graceful thing Dragomir had ever done; but ticklish torture was a great motivator, and he was loathe to let it continue unabated. He struck out with his limbs, greatly resembling Isi as he straightened and stiffened them all into a kind of puppy punch that was likely to miss Mahler entirely, since he was neither coordinated nor capable of seeing his target.

Still. He tried.
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Ooc — ebony
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mahler pulled his muzzle just out of reach, but the child's sudden, smooth movement, and the stiff-bodied nature with which he regarded the gargoyle plainly conveyed displeasure. "all right," came the man's vibrating voice 'round the boy. "no more of that." amused at how very large a personality dragomir already seemed to possess, mahler used forelegs and nudges of his long nose to right the boy onto his stomach.
it was surprising to think that such a small child would soon be eating food and testing the limits of the thicket with sharp, small teeth. "just as long as you do not eat more dirt," mahler teased, a true smile curling his lips upward now.
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#10
The pup's strike sailed harmlessly past Mahler's whiskers and was rewarded with a series of rumbles through his bones. Unlike touch, Dragomir seemed especially fond of this sensation; an infant's soundless chortle bubbled his lips into a weak smile and he calmed in an instant. He sought to reach out with pudgy paws for the man's nose, but then he was turned over onto his belly and could no more reach the stars than he could Mahler's face.

With a concerned peep, Dragomir began nosing around the floor, looking very much like he was doing just as Mahler instructed. For once, however, he wasn't mouthing soil. He knew the warm visitor was still there, and sought only to find some part of him to suck on.
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Ooc — ebony
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his children had been so, fond of faces, not so fond of strengthening the muscles in their neck. mahler would have liked to look at dragomir longer, admire the small paws and round belly, but a curious tightening around his eyes foretold grief. not wanting to alarm the babe with the contortion of his broad features, the gargyole steadied himself with a slightly quivering breath and nuzzled the back of the boy's tiny head, shifting closer to assure the child that he was close. 
in such a short time, he had grown very fond of the little ducklings in diaspora, and hoped to see them all reared well to adulthood, before his eyes.
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#12
The warmth closed in around him. Although Dragomir didn't find what he was looking for (a makeshift binky), Mahler's nearness was enough to coax an abrupt yawn out of the tot. Slapping his gums together with contentment, he spreadeagled on the soft den floor and was snoring not long ago, his face bunching and twitching as his imagination whisked him away. This time he would be a black hole, consuming all light and incapable of fathoming such small things as wolves.
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Ooc — ebony
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#13
<3

for some time, mahler remained close, watching over the slumbering dragomir. he allowed himself the indulgence of several more memories, wafted to him by the scent of milk on both these little ones, and closed his own eyes for a long breath of time.
when the gargoyle had returned to himself, he moved softly away from the pair, attempting to make no noise, and smiled down once over their sleeping forms before casting a glance to their watchful father and decamping from the thicket to his own den.
for a long time thereafter, the warmth of the day remained with him.
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