Moonspear your love will always be rooted deeper than any grave

It was warm, quiet, dark, as it had always been. The soft, gentle beats of a faraway presence kept her comforted, along with the — though barely registered — existence of her litter-mates, every now and again making themselves known with a slight kick or twitch. The existence was a simple one, though that mattered not to the girl. She was content, and that was all she needed.

So when suddenly all familiarity was ripped away in what seemed like an instant, the newborn cried in protest as hard as her tiny lungs let her. Coldness surrounded her on all sides, even on her insides as she sucked in her first breath. Something enveloped her, something warm and giant and she quietened, but only for a moment.

The triplet hadn't found a teat before their mother shifted, and so she wailed unhappily, wiggling around on the floor of the den while blindly bumping her nose against the soft, foreign bodies of her sisters. The large, warm presence was swift to return, however, and the girl was guided with a soothing lick towards a sweet-smelling food source. She prodded at it gently before latching on, her complaints dulled to soft whimpers as she suckled beside her siblings.