Sun Mote Copse Sweet child o' mine.

She couldn't stop staring at the tiny puppy, oblivious to the commotion breaking out around her and her family's concerned cries. Had that really come out of her? Towhee found herself inching tentatively toward the squirming blob, blinking in slow motion when her nosed touched it. Was it really hers? The pup's mouth formed a moue as its four tiny legs stiffened, then began flailing, reaching out to her. In some tiny corner of her mind, she noticed it was a little girl. Was this her daughter?

She was so totally unprepared for any of this, though as the shock slowly began to wear off and wonder took its place, it fortunately brought instincts along with it too. Towhee slowly pushed herself upright, some miraculous autopilot mode engaging as her teeth clipped the umbilical cord (not intestines, after all), cleaned the pup and then plucked her off the ground. The Regent paused long enough to exchange glances with her frantic brother and son, motioning for them to follow and bring Fen too as she gingerly carried her bundle to the nearest excuse for a den, which happened to be a moldering log near the outskirts of the rendezvous site.

Moving slowly, she climbed into the cozy space and gently set the newborn on the damp, mossy wood before curling protectively around her, innately urging the whelp's tiny snout toward her underside. Towhee feared she wouldn't be able to feed her own offspring; she was certain she wasn't lactating. But the tiny puppy's gummy mouth found a teat and tugged fiercely. Towhee could feel the flow before she could see it, thin white fluid trickling down the baby's chin.

At that point, what could she do but stare? She couldn't tear her eyes off the tiny, fuzzy blob as she drank from her body, the same body which had made her despite all of Towhee's beliefs to the contrary. The baby was perfect too: very small, even for a newborn, but she was quite lively (and presumably noisy), with the proper number of noses and toes, ears and tails. She suckled fiercely, her small head bobbing back and forth and her wee paws kneading Towhee's flesh. She looked just like an itsy bitsy Pippin, though Towhee didn't spare one thought for the pup's paternity.

She was hers and Towhee had never been so happy to be proven wrong.