Whitebark Stream A grass blade flashed with a gleam.

The coo of her firstborn wakes the woman from her nap. Shifting, she stretches a hind limb lazily as she moves to blink the cloudiness from her gaze. It takes her a moment to realize the difference in her boy; his eyes are no longer pulled tightly shut. She smiles, content rumble in her chest as she plants a kiss between his ears. She wonders what it is like, to see for the first time. She, certainly, has no memory of it.