Cedar Sweep [m] aniñiq

To be born was to begin to know hunger. And if ever from now Atausiq could recall that day, her first memory would be to then remember not wanting to feel such a way, after the vicious pang in her belly—

And then it was to know cold. That feeling was over in near an instant, when the third thing that she came to know was to be loved—and the fourth, perhaps to feel it. 

Something brought this hunger and this cold to an end. And Atausiq lastly, on the first day, knew what it was to feel content as she suckled loudly at her mothers teat. She was comfortably nestled between her litter mates, but this teat was hers—she claimed it with kicks and happy crocodilian death rolls to push anyone else away from what was hers.