Moonspear inflection

For others of her age, this magical thing called eyesight may have been considered an awesome and intriguing new part of life. For Yami, it was just an annoyance. An annoyance among many, many such annoyances. Even at such a very young age, the teensy Ostrega could not help but feel frustrated by the strange sense of lacking in her life. Not that life was lacking, but that she was lacking in her ability to make the most of it. She had been given touch and feel and sight, but she could touch so little, feel so little, and see only a blur of so very little. Even then, she had some vague sense that there was more, and a very strong sense of the annoyance of her limitations.

So, as usual, when one of her lumpy, squirmy, irritating siblings shifted and squalled, Yami met the disruption with an onslaught of grumpy squeaks and grunts of her own. She reached with gaping jaws out into the blurry void, seeking the source of her frustration to give it a good chomp. Chomping was the only thing she had determined she was able to do to cope with the world, and so she chomped as much and as often as she could. Today she chomped the other squeaker to her left - a brother, also known as the lumpy blur that was light than the other lumpy blurs. Her gums found a shoulder and she went to work on it furiously, nibbling and licking and chomping at it while continuing her own squalls that suddenly and inexplicably fell into a rythymn, unconsciously becoming just an echo of his.