Sun Mote Copse The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,

This new sense was lame.

No matter how much Alyx blinked or scrunched up her face or widened her newly opened eyes, she could barely make out anything that wasn't directly in front of her nose. Which was truly unfortunate, because now that she'd realized she was capable of seeing, she wanted to see everything. She spent several minutes marvelling at the soft blonde hue of Niamh's belly, its darker mirror on her brother's flank, and the inky black of Quetzal's face. And since she was the first to open her eyes and Niamh was napping, she was alone in celebrating this milestone, which is fine because it quickly grew boring.

That is, until Fig arrived. Alyx couldn't hear him and she wouldn't be able to see him from there, but that didn't mean she was completely useless. Her sense of smell was decently strong, certainly strong enough to pick up on the new papery scent of the birch bark that Figment presented. Almost on cue, the chubby cub swivelled her head on her wobbly neck, blinked the largest and most exaggerated blink known to cub-kind as she tried and failed to focus on the flash of white that slid into the den, and proceeded to rapidly belly-crawl toward the enticing new scent.