Neverwinter Forest lxxiv. we'll go swim our cares away

For @Fjall but others also welcome!

The days were blurred together in the close, semi-dark world of the den. The copper scent of birth and primordial things was fading. In its place the smell of milk and baby and mother pervaded. Lótë had not lost track of the others -- she rather enjoyed their visits -- or their purpose in the wood they shared with the herds, but her world seemed to have shrunken temporarily to the revolving need of nursing and sleeping as she healed and regained her strength. The cloudberry welcomed the respite, for it meant bonding with Fjall and the chance to mourn the daughter she would have named Juni. 

On that morning, she simply admired her pallid son as sunlight trickled in and played on his tiny features. Her head rested against the bedfurs, gems of adventurine tracing along the sealed eyes and button nose -- wondering if he would grow to be as pale as his father.