Cedar Sweep Pegasus

He promised he would return her to Asivaq's belly when she quieted. The noise was not a bother to himself, but Kigipigak knew the other children would need sleep, and especially their mother. It was a trial to convince her that he meant well—the issumatar had such strong instincts!—but when she relented, Kigipigak took care and scooped up the wailing little girl, carrying her as if she were a lit candle threatened by the wind between the trees.

Kigipigak did not go too far. He found a sequestering spot to sprawl himself, and tucked the girl against his chest so that his forelimbs were bulwarks, and his chin was above her. This was so far outside the realm of what he'd ever been taught, and he was filled with a new father's fear, despite this being his second chance.

This was, after all, his first (and only) daughter.

What was it that mothers did to soothe their children? Malguk had been warmed by Asivaq's tongue, she had been fed, she had been handled carefully and lovingly, and yet the girl continued to shriek and cry. Kigipigak could think of little else to try, except... Perhaps to speak with her. She would not understand it, and he knew that; but he crooned some low notes anyway, humming and rumbling, with the hope that the depth of his voice might ease some unseen pain, or maybe distract her enough to take a breath.