The Sunspire You had other plans to hang your hopes on

no one seems perturbed by the new appearance -- he lingers under the safety of mama's thigh for a beat, until his curiosity overrides any remaining nervousness. he peers out from under creamy-pale fur, baby blue eyes cartoonishly round against his smudged charcoal face. baby-soft senses still aren't developed far enough for him to make out much about the new figure -- her smell isn't any he knows but it is close, the scent of sunspire itself a comfort as it's surrounded him since birth.

cautiously he wriggles closer, his crawling shy. okeanos whine-talks, "oo?" his tiny head pressed against his paws, still far enough from the mouth of the den to beat a hasty retreat if needed -- but close enough to "talk" to her.