Bearclaw Valley When will you realize Vienne waits for you

First there is warmth. A slow swim through limbo. Weightless and symbiotic with the same eternity owned by the cosmos. Beginning before the beginning, blood made flesh.
And then it is cold, abruptly so— sharply so—and if it was fire for his sister, then it seemed to be ice for him. A small mouth gasps at the frigid air, and the first breaths of a quiet brother join the symphony played by new life, a shadow to the noisy one who preceeded him.
He searches for something in the dark and in the silence, an aimless attempt to find mother's fur, made easier when he is guided by parental nudges to suckle alongside his siblings.
He is hesitant, and pushed around easily, but soon, when the strain and the shock of this event fades to an easy comfort, he will find his place.