The Sentinels and witch hearts

she held fast, suckling gently. when it yielded nothing she released and let out a sob of protest, and investigated the feathery lips of her father without knowing quite what it was. her own plush muzzle mouthed and found nothing of use to her in this moment. she was hungry, after all, and had not finished her supping before being distracted by Something Big. his crooning was familiar to her in the basest of ways. perhaps she could understand his every word, even without hearing. that youthful knowing, innocent yet there. but no, presently this was not the case. truthfully, the young witch knew nothing at all but of her needs, and when this need was not met (oblivious that she faced the wrong direction), a distraught hiccup came before next, a loud wail. her mouth worked at what it would but still! nothing was there! and only a day old, she was not quite certain what she ought to do, so she wiggled toward the left thinking, ?????????? whilst her mouth opened to catch only air. wrong.