Blackfeather Woods you were not born of stardust, darling, stardust was born from you

The child had become increasingly mobile within the next few days, as her teats had begun to work more efficiently to produce enough milk to keep up with the Qilaq's rather large appetite. Nemesis was greatly indebt to Potema, for now she had never awoken to the sharp pain of the girl chewing on her teat since accepting the herbs in her meals. Yet, somewhere deep down, Nemesis was relieved that the girl had begun to recover, that the threat of her slipping away from life in the night was non-existent.

Despite the tiny girl becoming a large pain in her ass, the wraith had quickly become attached to the girl as her own daughter, and refused to without earshot of her, for safety reasons; she claimed. Kove had been the same from the minute she had been found, it seemed. And though it was not nessicary, she often sensed a hint of competition over the child; which one who she grow to be attached to more. Yet, as of now, the girl was more certianly attached to Nemesis, in more ways than one. 

She woke to an abrupt start, feeling the impact of a small head against her side. She did not need to look down to know what the cause of her wake was; it cried an inaudible word and sped out the den in what seemed a mere second.

Groaning, Nemesis slowly rose from her rested state, her eyes blinking against the blinding force of the morning sun as she stepped from the shadows of their den. It took her a second for her eyes to adjust to the light before she scanned the area for a sight of the small, black-furred, trouble maker. "Qil.." She calls, her head dipping down so that she may see at the same level the girl does. She doesn't know why she cares so much about the girl, or what caused her to feel that way, but she does, too much. "What do you want?" She blinks down at the girl after moments of searching. Qilaq has a mind of her own, Nemesis comes to the conclusion, and she can do nothing but be the safety net, if she is ever needed.