Blackwater Islands what will it be now, mister mole?

The shimmering sound of water was a familiar vibration, a pattern of movement within the stone that Anathema followed faithfully. Constant; numbing. Monotony colored this first chapter of her life, and so she was unsettled by any disturbance.
Accipitra was one of three such disturbances. On some instinctive level Anathema recognized the blood that flowed the same through each of their veins, so her sister was not met with any great offense on her part, but she was certainly ruffled. A little squeak slipped from her when she felt a paw on her head, followed by the sharp vibrations of Accipitra's wail. She reached out lazily with her forepaws in a half-hearted attempt at comfort. Shh, shhh, she urged her sister wordlessly. Sleeeeep...
She drifted mid-reach, and snored once.