Blackfeather Woods we all know now we all got crowns

At two days old, Sakhmet was not much to look at. Pudgy, wiggly, and messy. These were things she could not control though. When she fed she gorged until she felt too tired to continue. Sometimes she awoke to the sensation of something sweeping over her small form. Warm but damp. Some days she met it with a protest of whines (the only sound she was capable of making at this point) and other days she welcomed the change from the coldness of the cave. Although she was never truly cold when she was crammed next to her twin and Parvati — at rare moments she'd find herself by her other brother if she wiggled enough or was moved about.

Today was not a wiggly day though. Today she desired naps more than anything else. Although she wished to rest upon her twin who seemed far too lively to make a good pillow.