Hideaway Strath the teeth of the eye of a storm

heh. tagging for reference — this is open to any baby siblings or anyone realistically allowed in the den. :-)

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Winter’s Bane slumbers, his pudgy cream puff body presses as close to @Lotte as he can physically get. He gravitates instinctively to her warmth, comforted by her scent as dull as the sense yet it so to him. He has no word for his äiti but he knows her. Shortly after his little brother is born the violent tremors that he feels even after he has been labored out of her body stills and cease entirely. There has been visitors but he is blind and deaf to them and with a belly full of sweet mother’s milk he is quick to fall asleep. Tucked against his mother’s bosom Roarke is safe from the tumultuous strike that has unsettled his Teaghlaigh. The unheard and unseen world of Roarke’s mind and personal space is at peace — for the moment. His slumber lightens from it’s deepened state and he lets out a small cooing gurgle as he shifts, no longer quite so confined as he was in the birthing sac. He is as vaguely aware of the press of bodies all around him — as aware as he can possibly be — but his movements are much more free and he draws a front paw up and begins to suckle on his own toes as if his paw is his mother’s teat. He lets out a low huff of disappointment in his sleep when he suckles to no avail. He suckles harder as he stirs awake but his toes do not (and alas will never) secrete milk. It takes him a few seconds to realize that the warmth on his paw comes from his own mouth and he releases it promptly to nudge at Lotte’s bosom, until he feels a few droplets of warm milk upon his leathery nose. He lets out a mewl and suckles. Distracted as he is — and not yet able to focus on more than one thing at a time — as he delights in the warm milk filling his belly he fails to notice the warm trickle down his hindquarters. Until he does notice it, detaches his mouth from the teat and lets out a loud wail of discomfort and demands to be cleaned and free of the puddle quickly soaking into the earth. If there is one such creature that does not deign to linger in his own urine it is without a doubt Roarke Fearghal.

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