Swiftcurrent Creek ’twas brillig, and the slithy toves

It was before dawn when Blossom stirred from slumber.

The world was quiet, as it had always been, but sound had begun to trickle in, very very faintly, as her little body developed and grew. Surrounded by warmth, the cold moments from when she was first born were quickly forgotten. She knew the smell of spring, the feeling of warm wind on her fur, the crisp newness of growing plants. These were all things she understood as well as any growing creature.

Blossom had no need for sight or sound to understand. The world was calm, quiet, and most of all kind. It wasn’t here for her to be harmed. Something in her reassured of that, quietly and yet persistently.

She lay quiet and relaxed in the dark as dawn crept closer, but a mote of dust was what tickled her nostrils. Her nose wrinkled, and the child released a faint sneeze, opening her eyes to examine what had touched her. And..oh.

She could see!

Blossom turned her body, blinking away as much of the fuzziness of new sight as she could, quietly awed even in the dark. Then, as she lay there, the first creeping tendrils of dawn light touched the walls of the den. And Blossom watched as they crept further and further towards her. She was not afraid, not of this. She turned her little body with several paddling kicks, just in time to catch color. Streaking the clouds, tugging the eye down to where the sun rose. 

Quiet, now awestruck, Blossom watched the sun rise with her new eyes.