Dragoncrest Cliffs salt pearls

Chantale had opened her eyes, and had spontaneously decided to navigate her world by touch of her mouth. Her siblings, her mom, any adult that came by, she would launch gums first at them, ready to commit them to taste before sight.

She also, however, did this with rocks, dirt, whatever she could fit between her gummy little jaws.

Today, she had woken, blinked, then opened her mouth to chomp upon whoever was nearest to her at that point in time.

His dreams became more vivid, now that his subconscious had seen light. While his vision was blurry still, he began to take note of movement and shape, though he was puzzled as to why there was only light some of the time. And the light he saw was filtered through the thick tangle of thorns that surrounded their home within the great, mossy tree trunk. 

He'd been dreaming of blurry figures when he was awakened by the feeling of something sucking and gumming on his arm, and for a moment he panicked, thinking it was one of the blurry shapes from his dream. He opened his eyes and squawked, only to realize with some horror that it actually was one of the blurry figures from his dream that was mouthing his forelimb. His siblings had been warm, soft, and comfortable for a while- but with time they were becoming more of a nuisance now that they were more mobile. 

He pulled his leg away, and began to try and slowly, awkwardly scramble his way out of her reach.

by turns mireille felt grief and then it passed; she felt anger but it lulled. her mothers would not be with her in this, but the vanguard of sisters and nieces provided her respite; they and now daughters.
chantale carried a different look than the others, no less elegant, but with a cast to her emerging details that reminded mireille of the worshipful man. thus there was reason to smile gently.
today the girl and little tousaint interacted, chantale with parted jaws, her son with shuffling little flight. mireille breathed overtop of both their small heads. "mwen pa ka tann pou ou rankontre lòt yo." to run, to frisk, to jump in the beauty of sapphique.

Tousaint ran from her approach, and in the back of her mind, something pinged.

Instinct, she’d later call it. As it was, she just called it a funny feeling in her gut that said to chase. So, she did, crawling at rapid speed (for a baby) back towards her brother to try and chew on him more.

Until something else caught her eye, mind you. The shape she would know as her mother, in time, pulled her attention away from tormenting her brother, up to her mother instead. Chantale let out a squeaky little war cry, clumsily swatting an already too long for her body forelimb, toothless maw opened wide.

He felt the warm breath of his sister as she scrambled after him. He opened his mouth like a bear about to roar, and in protest made a squawking noise somewhat akin to a fledgling crow demanding to be fed. He didn't like being chased, and didn't like being chewed on. Fortunately for him, his sister began tormenting their mother instead. 

He should have been satisfied that he was no longer the target- but he felt possessive of his mother, even though she fed all four of them regularly. With eyes out of focus, he saw movement that was relatively swift for a pup- the swipe of a paw aimed to strike, and he fumed. He opened his mouth again, toothless and gummy, and began to squawk at his sister once more, issuing a series of harsh caws to discourage her from ever striking out their mother again!

the puppies warred! mireille, surprised, did nothing at first. and then she reached to separate them with a nudge of her muzzle.
"peace! no fightin'," but even as she said it, she wondered if it was best for tousaint to be so tested by his sister.
it might be the very lot of his life — and so she paused and pulled back, and waited to see how this might go for each of them.