Moonspear snakehips

Her heart leaped when the little boy moved! His small cry was music to her ears, though the next gasping breath quickly snuffed out her brief joy. Meerkat could see that he was struggling and she tried to help him by nudging his tiny body over one of her forepaws and using the other to rub at his back. Despite her efforts, he grew cold and limp beneath her touch.

Long after the newborn stopped breathing, Meerkat still alternated between licking his face and stroking his tiny body. She glanced up at Njord’s sleepy question, her face stricken, but didn’t have the wherewithal to answer him. She tucked the baby boy closer to her chest, as if holding him against her heartbeat might be catching and his would start beating again too.

When that did not work, Meerkat ever so gently shifted him back into the cradle of her arms. Her instincts told her to place him near her bosom but this baby would not latch. He would not feed, nor fuss, nor grow. He would not live. He did not live. Some part of her knew this, though acceptance would not come easily or quickly.