The Sentinels More than a lot

When Osprey was not actively looking for the safe place to deliver children or eating, she was resting. If weeks before she would have felt bad for being the lazy one, then now the exhaustion came on like a spell she could not fight with. A potent one too - feet heavy as lead and lids hard to being kept open. Therefore she did not resist for long, rather spending the last minutes of the awake time, seeking a comfortable spot to sleep at. 

On a perfectly sunny April afternoon, she had nested in the soft moss under a bush, lying on her side, eyes closed and her muzzle hidden between forepaws. Now and then her eye-lids would flicker, tail give an occasional wag and she would let out a muffled bark. The dreams were rarely unpleasant, rather a kaleidescope of several small, happy events, flickering and merging into a colorful image - a beautiful sight to see and feel. She froze, when one of the kids kicked her in the ribs and then the moment passed, she sighed and sprawled out in the soft bed she was sleeping at.