Ankyra Sound i sing in greek

a wild eye open thread for scarab! tags for reference ... no obligation to join! c: ♥

the morning started out like any other — snuggled against either @Erzulie or @Rosalyn; whomever he'd managed to belly crawl to before slumber drew him under — and with his paw or someone's paw ( or tail ) in his face ...or his paw in their face @Clementine, @Marisol, @Nieve or @Reyes. he doesn't know how to and doesn't distinguish them yet. scarab only knows that there are several other small beings like him. size isn't exactly known to him either but the other ones aren't as fathomless as his mothers who are much larger in size than him.

there's a moment where his eyes peep open. it's small and they close quickly. he lets out a small grunt seconds before he yawns and smacks his lips together sleepily before they half open and he lets out a startled noise of surprise as they close again. he blinks and they open in full; and though his eyesight is poor and still in development scarab stares around at the blurring shapes with muted awe.

her world is small and dark and insignificant, and Clementine is utterly content. she's already doing her best to establish herself as a background character, and succeeding. she's not a perfect child, nor is she a terrible one. she fusses and sleeps and eats and mostly sleeps, and lags somewhat behind most of her siblings. when she wakes today her world is still dark, though her sibling has stumbled into her path and she reaches tentatively to prod him with a flimsy paw.

she lulled them with snippets of french, and the tongue rose to her voice even as her son's small head bobbed, lifted, and the murky colour of his eyes could be seen. "merveilleux!" she exclaimed, lowering her head down toward scarab and brushing her nose against his own. clementine had wakened as well; erzulie watched the smallest babe fondly as she sought to interact with her brother. the girl was little, but not weak, and in a moment the harlot swept her tongue along her daughter's spine encouragingly.

scarab idly ambles about, shuffling this way and that, taking in everything that he can with an unchallenged greed even if the pictures that are painted are undistinguishable, too blurred to be able to define anything other than rough shapes and muted colors. still, it is progress and it is new and he wants more of it. more colors and more shapes. he turns to investigate the milk-sibling that has jabbed him with her paw: her fur a pale rose color. he presses his nose to her paw and offers it a small lick. i see you, it is meant to convey ...and it was a whole new experience from feeling her presence previously. his attention is stolen away soon after though as one of the big shapes — erzulie — says something ...it falls upon still deaf ears but he feels the vibration it creates and strains his head up as she touches her nose to his. he lets out a cooing noise, of greeting and content, immensely comforted by her everlasting presence.

Nieve's eyes were still yet closed. It would be another day or two before they opened for the first time. The jostling movements of her siblings were no more than ocean waves to her—a tumultuous sea, but a sea no less. But the water spirit was born for chaos like this. . .

She floated, buoyant, boneless. She was carried into the deep and the depths of dreams; sightless, fearless.

One day, she will gaze upon Scarab and the rest. But not today.

cameo — please skip me!

nieve, little but not forgotten, not overlooked; erzulie tucked her blind slumbering daughter into the crook of her arm and settled alongside scarab. her son was besotted with this new sense, his watery azure gaze settling on all things, on his sister, on his mother. a smile accompanied his small sound; with her muzzle, the harlot urged scarab look toward the denmouth, where sunlight formed a bright and pleasant glow. ever-watchful, she cast an eye over the other sleeping children before looking forward to see what the small boy would make of such brilliance.

I read that pups usually get their hearing first so.. my little one gets very garbled sounds.. nothing clear.. and you get two seeing puppies!

Sounds had come first, strange and garbled. Nothing was really clear as her tiny dark ears untucked from her skull,  she could not move them but her mothers voices were actually easy to tell apart. One had a more sing song voice to her and the other more gruff, the deeper voice usually played with her. It was the one that had flipped her over and prodded at her belly days before.

Today was the second time she had opened those dark rimmed eyes but this time, she kept them open. This time she blinked her watery gaze as a garbled sound of a squeak came, a sound of surprise? She was getting a tiny bit better with emotional sounds, and she could tell by his slightly lower sounding.. well.. sound that it was one of her brothers. She blinked then, no sound coming as the blurry gaze fell on his much lighter form. Her legs kicked weakly and brought her to him, others seemed to be awake as well. Her sisters.

A sharper sound came, the singimg mother, she was the lighter one and she had only noted this when her eyes tirely opened the first time before closing her world in darkness once more. Now she moved weakly. Closer to the brother that like her, could see.. in a way. Her nose touching each sibling in turn as she finally reached Sarab. Her mouth aiming to close around his tail before trying to pull at him, a meager vibration coming from her throat. A very pitiful growl.

while nieve slumbered and scarab scuffled around with his newfound sense, erzulie hummed to the two of them, glancing as well to @Clementine. such fine children, she decided, fond and proud. and to her intensified happiness, marisol came to join the small cluster of children, her eyes open as well.
erzulie reached to her daughter now, amused by marisol's pursuit of scarab, outnumbered by his sisters. it seemed he would more than make up for the tragedy with his size, however, even as a tiny growl bubbled from the little girl's throat into the semi-darkness of the den.