The Sunspire please twirl me one more time and don’t stop spinning me

Come meet the fam! I’ll just pp the puppies being lil beans, unless you guys want in

 

The sylph had only been made a new mother for little over a week, and she knew this was exactly the reason she had been put on this planet. She loved absolutely every part of the process of creating new life: conception, pregnancy, birth, that absolutely overwhelming sense of new motherhood. She absolutely loved to nuzzle their little, wriggling forms and bestow kisses upon their tiny crowns, to croon sweet lullabies and proudly show them off to Seabreeze and whomever else visited that day. Her heart, her mind, her body, her spirit; motherhood completely filled every part of her, every need and want she ever had. It was the way she had felt about Dakarai, a million times over, and she was utterly addicted to being in love with her babies. 

The open-nature of her whelping den had largely worked in her favor. The weather held and there was little rain. Mostly, there was a soft and gentle sun that she allowed to warm her little babies' backs as they milled about the immediate vicinity, upon the bed of leaves she had worked to line the crag with and pad the earth for her mewling babes' fragile limbs and kissable bellies. She watched them as if they were the most fascinating things in the world, and they were! All whimpers and whines, with no sight or ability to hear — and so far closer to the gods than she could ever hope to be, not even in her deepest of prostrations. 

Little over one year ago, Sirius, Aries and Cassiopeia had been this age — so small and so helpless, but they had been dragged all over the Teekon Wilds as Teaghlaigh fled the coast and sought refuge further inland. It had been a time of fear and foreboding, as their situation was only to get worse once shelter had been found. Olive wondered if, had her first litter had such a mellow and lovely beginning to their life [as had the children of the nameless man], things might have turned out differently for them. Everyday Olive grieved for their loss of innocence, but then she would turn her attentions back to her new clutch and revel in the abundance of theirs.  
 
The babies nursed. The songbirds sang. Olive smiled and blinked her eyes against the dappled, noonday sun. It was good.