The Second Born nestled tighter against Ragnar’s chest and the Viking’s ear twitched a few times, cupping forth to catch the noises from outside the den, the shuffling of Thistle outside as she …did whatever it was she was doing, the whispers of the winds through the trees, rustling the leaves as it murmured through the tall grasses, across the rippling water of the small pond a few feet below their den. It was the sound of summer, accented by the calls of birds high above, occasionally the cry of a raven, of Huginn or Muninn. Sounds that his children would soon be able to hear when their ears opened. He glimpsed down at what he could see of Thistle’s mini-me, a ball of sandy colored fuzz pressed against the pallid and sharp contrasting silver moonlight of Ragnar’s own fur, little paws pressing against his side — a quick glimpse back told him it was the eldest son with his odd markings reminiscent of Sveinn, strange though it was — before a noise of contentment (or so that was how Ragnar chose to take the small noise Tveir made as) escaped the Second Born’s little mouth muffled by the colossus and strong curve of the Viking’s chest (in comparison to the babes, at least he felt like a colossal titan or something).
For a rare moment as his children slept nestled against him — for it did not take Ragnar long to realize that the Second Born was asleep by his surprisingly loud snores that caused the Viking to chuckle fondly before he cut himself off afraid the vibration of his mirth might disturb one of the three slumbering children. Ragnar shifted his back legs to a more comfortable position, stretching them out so they worked to curve around Ein and Átta. There was nothing to watching the infants, really. He tried to see where Tveir’s face was facing and in accordance laid his head to rest on the opposite paw so the boy would be able to breathe. Gradually, the Viking’s eyes slid closed realizing that he was perhaps more exhausted than he took time to realize. Guarding the den all night did not leave him much time for a deep sleep and though he did his duties as husband, father, leader, and Head Warden without any complaint it was a nice thought to be utterly selfish and steal some shut eye wrapped around his children’s embraces (so to speak).