This morning was no different until he woke up and lo and behold there were new senses. He let out a whine as he noticed something funny, he could well he could see things, there was not more just touch he could see things. Granted they were blurry and misshapen, but none the less they were there. He began to roll around towards the blurry outlines of the blobs poking and prodding trying to get a better picture of what was there. All the while letting everyone know that he could see sort of.
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Ragnar had finished his first patrol of the morning — stirring earlier than he had previously so he could let time to include the Ridge’s shores — and had began to make his way, as per usual back to the birthing den after pausing by the rendezvous den he had been gradually working on constructing in secrecy for his growing family knowing that the birthing den would eventually become to small for them and that way, if another litter were to come along it would be free to use. Swiftly, the Viking moved to the sounds of his family, seemingly awake. Normally, he relieved Thistle giving her a few stolen moments or half an hour (the length didn’t matter to Ragnar so long as she got out to stretch her legs and to absorb some sunshine), there was a small measure of alarm when she did not come out to greet him right away. Ragnar ducked into the den and moved to lay on the wall opposite of his wife and the three squirming bodies pressed against her, greeted by Tveir’s cry though Ragnar was unable to decipher it. His eyes touched Gyda, and then in turn the First Born resting on Ein who seemed contented to suckle at his mother’s breast. Out of all the children, Ragnar suspected that it was Ein who ate the most but that was an assumption based on nothing more than that he was the biggest of his siblings.
Soon enough he made it to it and began to poke and prod at it with his nose and small paws trying to see clearly though he couldn't and he could put a name ot the flitting emotion that came and went it would be frustration at not being able to completely see. Thistle's chuckled could be heard off to the side as her voice reached out to her husband. I believe love that Tveir has gained his sight and is letting us know in some not so uncertain terms. It is probably very blurry but there none the less
She yawned with a long squeak that ended in a yip and rolled onto her belly since she had been sleeping on her back.
Her eyes were sticky so she began to blink, the sheets of skin that covered them moved ever so slightly. Her head snapped to the right to stare in the direction of mum's voice. She could make out a dark outline. She pulled herself into a sitting position she turned her head toward her second favourite scent, the rumbler.... his dark outline was different from mum somehow... her brain buzzed working furiously to make sense of this new input.
Those ever constant scents came to mind so she dropped her head and blinked attempting to focus on those; they moved, much to her surprise. They seemed real, where before she just imaged them annoying things.
She rolled her head back up to Father. The rumbly one and cooed at him, fighting for a few moments to see more clearly. After a nap she should be hungry but she was to distracted to think about food at this moment. She gave up trying to figure out what rumbler was and lay down... this sight thing seemed to be more work then it was worth.
who crushes the world beneath her feet
Ein had taken a repose from drinking only to be continuously poked and prodded at by Tveir and it was the boy’s loud cry of protest the gnashing of toothless mouth that caught the Viking’s attention and the savage man laughed looking from the boys to Thistle with nothing short of affection on his face.
Ragnar’s attention moved back to which ever child was poking at his side with a cold, wet black, leathery nose; small paws joining in on the poking game that the Second Born was playing. Gyda had sat up, and the Viking’s attention went to their daughter then as Tveir kept up his exploration of Ragnar’s side, her eyes were open too, he saw. She had cooed at him but then had laid back down and the Viking frowned softly.
More movement caught her attention, Gyda clumsily moved her paws under her and pulled herself into an upright position she sniffed the air as he moved toward her, she knew that scent he was always beside her or on top of her she didn't like him much yet she swung a paw at him missing completely since she had no depth perception, failing that she made her attempt at a growl which came out more like a eeeerrrrah sound. She didn't like his movement or his blurry blobby outline and nothing good had ever come of his scent save for annoyance, somehow she felt it wasn't going to get any better from here.
With this one fast approaching she wondering where the other scent was, and was it going to continue to be annoying to her. She fell over backwards in her attempt to make her bother go away, doubtful and that would work but it did put her in a position that would be easy to climb onto of
who crushes the world beneath her feet
Tveir continued his poking at Ragnar’s side though each prod into the thick muscles that lined the man’s body began to become less enthusiastic the more Ragnar acted to be oblivious to it. He could not snap at the child to stop his curious prodding, even if it annoyed Ragnar a bit to have his side continuously assaulted by the Second Born’s cool, wet nose because he understood it was how the child would learn. And the last thing that Ragnar wanted to do was to stifle curiosity. He, himself, was an extremely curious creature, sharing that with the Allfather who was his primary and favorite God. Curiousity of the world around them, Ragnar believed, was something to be nurtured. He wanted his children to question things, and strive to find answers however they went about doing it. Eventually, Tveir decided that Átta seemed more appealing and gave up on his assault of the Viking man to toddle to his little sister who had fell backwards as if to discourage the youngest boy’s approach. Ragnar watched them for a brief moment out of the corner of his eye before he glimpsed towards Ein who appeared to be asleep cuddle against Thistle making tiny little noises in his sleep. A soft smile was exchanged with his wife before he turned his head to watch the younger two children, ready to intervene if it appeared as if Gyda wanted assistance.
He nudged her again trying to entice her to play with him. He wanted a playmate and the other blob was still sleeping not to mention he almost always won, at least these two may be evenly matched, not that he would know what that meant.
The little one who would be called Átta by the other pack member when ever she met them, cried out, the scent of her sibling did not match this sight she saw. She rolled to her side and shoved her paws at him, surprised when she made contact with his fuzzy pelt that it felt familiar.
Quickly she put two and two together, Things that she had felt before now had some other way to be recognized. She cooed now instead of being insulted by his presence she wanted to be sure he was what she thought he was.
Pulling herself up into a sitting position she raised a paw and prodded him before she tried to climb onto of him, she was seeking out his ear, she wanted to 'see' that thing that was not a milk giving nipple but still fun to chew upon.
who crushes the world beneath her feet
Ragnar watched as Tveir crept closer to Gyda with the intention of poking her as he had Ragnar, and Ragnar watched with the contemplation of a soccer referee, body tensing as he prepared to separate them quickly if need be. He knew that the children were not aware of their bodies the same way that adults were and worried that, more so in Gyda’s case seeing as she was the smallest of the children, that Tveir might accidentally hurt her. Ein was sturdier than Gyda — though Ragnar was aware that his sons could easily hurt one another, as well. Yet, Tveir did not clamor to crawl on top of Gyda, instead, appearing to be contended, Ragnar watched, with poking at Gyda. Instead, it was Gyda who aspired to climb atop of Tveir in search of something to chew on. Ragnar let out a soft noise, not quite a laugh but it was a noise of fondness all the same as he watched his children interact with one another in a new way as they discovered that they could, for the first time, see one another.
He turned to study the paw that she kept prodding him with trying to see what she looked like closer up. He could see closer than farther and he wanted to explore all avenues that way.
Atta slipped off Tveir and crumbled onto her back, mewling at him like it was his fault that had happened when in fact she had just over reached.
On her back and below her brother she waved her paws and tried to prod the underside of his belly. From this vantage point he looked like a small version of mum, how weird was that?
She turned her head and attempted to bit at her brothers ankles from this vantage point since she could see her target now and she wasn't fumbling blindly
who crushes the world beneath her feet
After playing with the children for a bit he noticed the droop of their eyelids, the lack luster way in which they moved and with a smirk herded the three of them between his forepaws. He ran his tongue over each of their small bodies, smoothing down the fur mussed from rough, childish play. Ragnar placed his head on his left paw, avoiding squishing which ever tiny child was curled up against that paw and let his eyes fall closed, glad that it was nap time. Whether it was intentional or not, the Viking eventually drifted off to the soft snores of his babes.