Duskfire Glacier To the edge of the universe and back.

there are no words that wintersbane can think of — in common or tundrian — to describe how he feels about his newborn cubs. he only knows that the love he feels for them, so small and fragile; perfect despite that... is so fierce and buoying and warm.

wanting to stay close at all times, wintersbane leaves to get food for @Lane, to eat himself and to make patrols though the distance he feels like a tangible thing.

he wants to be near them always: lane and the newest duskfires.

he enters the birthing den to leave two plump rabbits for lane and lays down near the small trio without invitation, staring at his newborn children with nothing but devotion in his glacial gaze. hello pikkuiset, he croons to his daughter and son in his rasping smoky timbre, feeling a small tug at his heart as he uses tundrian for the first time in many, many moons. it is sudden but it feels right.

in my mother's native tongue pikkuiset means 'little ones'. he offers as an explanation without prompt, unsure if lane was listening or even awake; and aware even vaguely that the cubs were not yet able to hear him ...still, it brings him some comfort to speak to them regardless.