Turtle Island salt expecting

Chani's firstborn could not have been more different than her cold-blooded captor. He emerged quiet and still in the wake of his mother's labours, nursed to life by the swipe of a tongue and pressed warmly against her belly. 

Tiny, gummed jaws parted to let loose a gull's peep, silenced by the swelled cries of a sister birthed next as soon she came to wriggle besides him. This seemed to stir the boy into action. Noé eventually found a teat of his own and settled to feast, ears wiggling contently, blissfully unaware of life beyond their island.

For this was all he needed to be happy.