Ankyra Sound But you and I, we're pioneers

Hope you don't mind me and Kjalarr! awkward kja is awkward around smol bebes. :p

 

The first week of the birth of Lusca's babes Caiaphas' instructions had been clear: no one was allowed to bother the new mother or her newborns. Occasionally, as his duties took him past the den — followed by an unexplained desire to make sure that no one had dared to disobey the Saltwinter Queen he would hear a wail of one of the newborns within, but he kept moving. He had been told after the first week that he would be allowed to visit them — Saltwinter's youngest additions. Admittedly, it was not a knowledge that Kjalarr knew what to do with though he had accepted the invitation with a sage nod. He did not know Lusca, admittedly hadn't bothered to make his introductions with the pack's Omega, and was not sure how well his presence would be received by the new mother given that. Yet, it was Caiaphas' word that the Beta heeded without question — not anyone else's. He told himself that he would wait until they were old enough to pop out of the den supervised because that seemed logical and yet he had counted the days and when the babes had hit their week mark he found himself drawn to the birthing den out of little more than his own unbridled curiosity. He had found the trail of a groundhog earlier and had perused it with the intention of bringing it as a gift for Lusca — perhaps as some sort of peace offering because truly Kjalarr had no idea if a homage needed to be paid to the new mother or not; this was clearly out of the viking's league — but the rodent had escaped him and he had to go without anything to offer (as well as a slight sting to his pride).

For a long moment he deliberated outside of it, feeling, for the first time in his life siphoned of his usual confidence and left with an unusual ...awkwardness. More than once he almost turned to continue on his day, but the small sounds of life within the den kept his intrigue burning. He wanted to see them...the future of Saltwinter. The only pups he remembered being around had been his siblings and while the Frostfurs had been a month or so younger than him Kjalarr knew it wasn't the same thing. He offered a low chuff of greeting so that he would not startle the new mother with his sudden presence and slowly he entered the den on his belly, ears slicked back to his skull as he maintained his respect for Lusca as their mother...still not sure the rituals of this whole thing. What he saw was...well not what he expected and he realized just how different the memories of his siblings as children were to the Saltwinter infants. The babes were small blobs — made monochrome as everything else in Kjalarr's world — and instantly he tensed afraid of accidentally squishing them. Perhaps it was an irrational fear but he sucked in a small breath as he considered how fragile they were...and how big he was in comparison. One of them — a female her scent had told him — had her face to the wall of the den and was wailing.

“Such powerful lungs for one so tiny,” He hadn't realized he'd spoken his thought aloud until the deep, softened timber of his voice reached his own ears. Idly, Kjalarr wondered if the girl's fur was as soft as he thought it might be — the appearance of texture got lost more often than not due to Kjalarr's sight condition. He did not remember this stage of his own life and had been expecting them to be...bigger, able to do more than just wiggle and squirm. He'd scooted closer to the wailing female, trying to discern (to no avail) what made the child wail like a banshee.