Northstar Vale i won't just survive

life was a blur of simple concepts for towhee jr during these first few days.

warmth that was soft like silk; comforting. the warmth of her mother. of her father. of her phother. the chill she feels when she musters the strength to wiggle a little too far away. she is always ushered back to the warmth quickly. there and gone before she knows it, but sometimes not before she can be upset about it.

she tries again to mewl, to squeak. to muster some sort of noise. she thinks she's making noise: her body does not know different because she does not yet know different.

instead, she continues to release huffs of air.

attempts to communicate at her most base level what she wants.

instantly, she is soothed by the gentle touch of nose to her back. her wiggling ceases and she smacks her lips together, fat head lifting for a moment before falling ... not having the strength to hold it up.