Redhawk Caldera This castle is in unacceptable condition!

Open to the many parents and siblings of this little booger.

Sleep was a skill that Titmouse had not yet acquired to any great extent. If there was such a trade known for being still, quiet, and relaxed for long periods of time, it was not a suitable one for the Little Titty. Newborns often slept for tiny spurts only to awaken when the desire for food became too great — but in Tit's case, he just didn't sleep.

Since his birth he'd screamed himself into a sort-of stupor from time to time. He'd be quiet for a handful of minutes (currently the record was around fifteen), but then a switch would flick in his tiny brain and Titmouse would go off again — humming, hollering, squealing, and honestly making the most racket out of all the wily newborns.

If anyone would recognize the signs of a colicky baby, it might've been @Raven — aside from being the wetnurse, she was the (aspiring?) pack medic after all — or maybe the more experienced @Finley would have noticed by now that the pebble-gray boy just never shut the hell up. Either way, nothing they did seemed to ease his desire to scream, and today was worse than before.

Titmouse had stopped grabbin' them titties and seemed extra focused on keeping everyone wide-awake with him.