the beauty and the beast

Nightmares were something yet unknown to the Sveijarn's litter middle child. She had never expirienced the horrors the mind could bring on itself, even with the numerous hours of sleeping she had everyday in her agenda, not even the faintest image of terror had entered her dreams. Still even if it had happen it was highly unlikely the young redhead would be able to remember.

At a month old, Maera had added more words to her vocabulary, now she didn't rely on charades to get her point across. Even so, it was sometimes hard for others to understand her --which was both frustrating and infuriating for the little fireball-- because she spoke very fast and to be honest her pronunciation wasn't the best.
But that never stopped her, as her siblings and parents --and probably everyone on at a mile radius-- knew she was very vocal. Every little action and reaction earned a little squeak or yelp from the girl.

Today however, the little girl was laying quietly in one of the corners of the den. The eerie silence was due to the fact that Maera had her mouth busy with something else. A small stick that had been placed by the wind at the mouth of the den, was her new victim. She gnawed happily at the small piece of wood while keeping her eyes on the lookout for a potential ambush from her siblings. If there was something Maera didn't like --aside from baths -- it was sharing.

She was so concentrated though, on keeping the stick from her siblings, that the soft voice of the male made her heart jump out of place. Her ears were pinned to the side of her head and her eyes widened as if she had seen a monster.

"Juu?", she called to her sister, even if calling her could mean loosing possesion of her stick she wanted her frost coated sibling by her side.