Little Goat Mountain I never trust a narcissist

ashkova let his curiosity rule for a moment, but then the hunter-man was forgotten and he scurried back to mira, yapping for her attention and leaning himself against her leg. she smiled as ksura commented that the boy loved her. she hoped that it would remain this easy to keep the children at her side, and away from wandering far, although figured it would get harder with time. 

the mother leaned down, lapping at the silvery forehead of her son between his ears. ashkova, what a sweet boy you are, she praised with a happy, gentle voice at his contact. even if they might not understand language yet, she had decided that affirmation of any sort would be good to reward nearness to and adoration towards mira. 

ksura came into her vision, squinting into the shadow of the den. he was a good helper, offering to bring the food or switch places. she didn't want to seperate from the children too much at this age, and two were presumably still resting near her, so she answered, bring me chunks, if you can. some for her, some to chew for the children to hopefully familiarize them with meat and semi-solid foods. of course, anything else would be for ksura- and though mira had greed, and perhaps some wrath, she was no glutton. she did not need more than her fill, and needed her hunting-servant to be strong and healthy alongside her. 

it was then that a sneeze alerted her, followed by a small, scratchy attempt at a bark. she blinked, yellow gaze flicking to her daughter, whose nose was now coated with a layer of mucus- amusing, though mira mostly worried for the girl's health, and would try to lean forward to grab her by the ruff if she was within reach, lifting her to sit in-between her paws. she needed these kids to stay healthy. she'd groom her daughter carefully, lapping at her nose and muzzle too, trying to warm her up.