Neverwinter Forest petroica traversi

Backdated to July 9th, twelve days of age.

It was Cypress’ turn to experience the strange phenomenon of sight. Normally a comatose Snorlax deep sleeper, the soot sprite had been fitful and restless through the night, demanding the attention of mother, father, and brother for reasons he could not explain or understand. The sensations of itchiness and tightness were new and unpleasant, and like a colicky baby, he’d fussed until one of the trio had lulled him back into the slumber he desperately needed. Toward dawn he finally fell asleep with his face nuzzled tight against his mother’s thickly-furred breast, allowing @Eshe, @Rannoch, and @Scimitar to get some rest.

This time when he awoke, something was different.

Mirroring his brother’s actions, Cypress rubbed at his eyes, learning for the first time that doing so would relieve the terrible curse that was itchiness. And the slivers of blue seemed to stretch and widen the more he blinked, tiny tears leaking and spilling over to drop like liquid crystal from his blunt puppy muzzle. For the first time, he voluntarily opened his milky blue eyes, immature and filmed over with a gossamer sheen of cloudiness, but he could see nothing at first — it was just the sensation that was different and new. His body learned what his mind had yet to process, causing his eyes to blink reflexively — if a bit slowly, for the palpebral reflex was sluggish and reluctant in one so young. Cooing, he wormed his way over to his brother and woke the dust bunny for the umpteenth time, piping shrill cries of confusion that were somehow different from his petulant whimpers through the night.