Heron Lake Plateau sleeping children are still flying

<3 <3

Quixote couldn't dwell, it'd end up breaking him, and he was useless enough as it is without crumbling into a pile.  It'd only make things worse than they already were.  But he had the advantage that he could sort of avoid dealing with things for now: just don't look.  Raven's answer was interrupted again by another pup, which sent Quixote pacing yet again.  Just please, good news.

And good news it was!  He let out a loud whoosh of a breath and practically fell backwards onto his haunches.  Not all was lost.  He did have to mentally shove that little voice that said 'something could go wrong' out of a window, though.  Nah, it was totally time for him to wrap himself up in a cloak of hope.  Quixote had never been so happy to see such a little critter and he looked back to Raven his tail thumping against the ground.  He still couldn't bring himself to give more than a very peripheral glance to the first two, but now the one who lived was the focus of his attention.  Can you make it into the den?  I... Just it's gotta be colder out here.  Protect her, protect them.

A little bit of Quixote's anxiety had been soothed.  This was more like what it was supposed to be like, right?  He got back up, slipping around to Raven's other side so he could take a look at the nursing newborn pup -- one of the advantages of them not being hidden away underground.  She was so small, so very much alive -- she had a future.  He leaned forward, sniffing at the little girl with a sense of curiosity and wonder that very well could get him bitten -- a good chunk of the logic section of his brain was still not responding.  That was his daughter.   Un-freaking-real.