They shared an expression of utmost wonder as the two parents gazed upon their new creations; Tuwawi looked far more exhausted, but the glow of motherhood was most appealing. He didn't know what to do, and so Njal only stared. He watched the tiny bodies of their children wriggle, eat, and slumber. The sounds they made were tiny things. Njal lowered himself carefully against the opposite wall of the den so that he could lay low and watch, his face on his paws, the awed expression unwavering from his features.
"Two sons and two daughters," Tuwawi relayed to him. As she uncurled from around the chirping newborns, the new father began to creep closer. He dragged himself with a slow crawl towards them, and extended his boxy face—carefully examining with the wet chill of his nose. Committing their fresh scents to memory. In the process Njal's nose touched down upon the youngest boy's belly, which caused him to squawk and roll in resistance to the sensation; in the same vein, Njal's features lit up in to a pleased smile.
"I love you." She reached towards him and with a slight lift of his chin, he was able to touch her snout with his own. A soft lick was placed upon her muzzle, and then he simply perched himself there within her proximity. I love you too, all of you.
Pulling closer, he was then able to wrap a foreleg around the back of Tuwawi's resting body. The other sat crookedly against the bodies of the babies, creating a gunmetal wall. When next Tuwawi spoke Njal's brow furrowed, but not in anger. He pondered what exactly to call them.
The first child to catch his eye was the largest, and that drew his attention. This one... He has been touched by the north. A little glacier.
As Njal spoke he reached for the child, inspecting him, and in that moment, realizing he had been mistaken. Oh, a girl? Then... Our little Jokull.
While she drank her fill, Njal pulled back to gaze upon Tuwawi.
He was distracted as one of the boys suddenly rolled his pudgy self up against his extended limb. The beige child, still gumming at the air, kicked with one of his back legs prior to folding up against his mother. And this one, touched by your fire.
The yellow of the boy's face was sparse, but as Njal adjusted himself so that light could peek in through the den mouth, he caught sight of it. Larus.