Blackfeather Woods It's not nice to stare, really

The mother woke abruptly, letting loose a frightened yelp as she was met face to face with a child of her own; staring into her eyes as if to search her soul. She had tensed, straightened up as she eyed the boy from her higher position. His eyes followed her as she moved, and she could not shake his gaze but hold it until her eyes burned with the lack of relief. This was the youngest, Abraxas. An odd boy, she had come to gather. He had not made much noise, besides the ear splitting screech at his birth. Instead, she noticed how he watched, observing his brothers and sister as they went about their own activities. His traits did not come from her, she was sure. Perhaps, Kove. Yet, nothing could truly explain the peculiarities of the youngest boy. "Strange, aren't you?" Her brow raised as if to question him. 

"No matter, it runs in the family," She sighed as she settled down again. Though her eyes did not move from the boy, carefully observing his own from her peripherals. She could feel his gaze on her own, and found she could not settle back to sleep with him simply watching her every movement. Instead, she faced away, hoping he would eventually find slumber and leave her in peace. Little did she know, this would not be happening any time soon.