Stone Circle Folk Tales

relaxed one for all the kvarsheim kids, vaguely forward dating a week, no posting order @Katla @Swift @Fjola @Lemmikki @Ujurak @Sven @Astrid @Kristjan

Time comes in slow waves here, day after the next rolling on from the shallow light of her whelping den. She nurses her children, her body heals, her affection blooms deeper for Fig whose dedication to feeding her keeps them all healthy in turn.

Today there are visitors, aside from Fig and Skáld they are the only others she will allow in this sacred space with her cubs; her nieces and nephews.

“Who’s ready for a story?” She entices the young minds with a stirring voice.

“Come, pups, everyone gather around. Be mindful of the littlest ones,” she prompts the older children, cradling her two babes to her belly and lifting her arm to invite the others in close.

Ah, auntie Tauris!
Astrid was confined to vague memories of her silhouette coming in and out of the den, the muddy sound of her voice before her senses truly came to her. She smelled her everywhere, but had never truly spoken to her much; even still, her beady little eyes looked up to her all the same. As a mentor, of sorts, or whatever concept of mentorship a little two month old puppy could have.
She shuffles proudly into the Nornir den, fat little paws flopping against the cool floor as she eases down into a sit. But wait. Tauris has two little lumps next to her. What were those?
She snuffles their amorphous figures, tongue tepidly poking out, before she decides to curl up right behind them with two big arms flopped on either side of their hinds. She wanted to hold them too!
Eagerly, she waits with pointed ears, a tiny wobbly smile given as if there were no boundaries potentially crossed at all.

Katla had gotten used to a certain crowd around her. Her favorite touch was her mother. She was just the perfect temperature, her fur the perfect consistency as she snuggled against it. She was beginning to learn the contrast between her mother and the outside. She sometimes scurried along the ground, usually when she got confused and lost her way. It was okay for a moment, the creeping coolness that was at first interesting but then quickly scary and uncomfortable. Luckily a good wail was all it took for the soft, sturdy muzzle of her mother to guide her back to her home tucked against warm fur. 

Her second favorite touch was her brother. Granted, he was often in her way which caused some irritation, but his presence was an integral part of her life, she didn’t know anything else, and rarely did she want to be anywhere aside from pressed against his familiar form. 

Third favorite was her father. The first time she had been left alone with him, she had been terrified and cried for her mother the whole time. Such an unfamiliar touch, scent, and noise. Her biggest comfort had been that at least her brother was with her. Luckily, though, that fear had faded fast when his presence continued and he ended up pretty comfortable after all. At this point he was around so often, even, that his arms felt like a second home. And then there was Skald, who though once again had taken a bit of time to get used to, Katla had learned to accept his presence as well. 

And today her universe would be expanded further, as she would meet some other pups in the pack. A rush of cold air came as Tauris lifted her paw to allow the approach of the others. The empty air was soon replaced by a large puppy. Well, large compared to her. Katla twisted around to greet the newcomer with an indignant series of whines and beeps, though she was ultimately too small to do much about her new place between the older pup’s paws. Katla had never felt anyone like Astrid before. She was a bit like a big version of her brother. But she was different, so Katla didn’t like it!

Light and shadow flickered, she could see it from under her eyelids as she faced Astrid and continued her protests. Her eyes had never yet opened, but the dark slits quivered as she tried to see what was happening around her.

Cameo — feel free to skip! :)

Faculties and capabilities being limited as they were did not prevent Swiftlet from displaying remarkable precociousness in his first week of life. Impatience, too, and in equal measure. If his mother was not around or if he could not find a teat fast enough (immediately), he would start grousing about it, and off he would go crawling in quest of more milk. He might only turn in circles or pull himself across his sister and back again, but he would do so with surprising command of his limbs and with some sort of elegance about his infant bumbling. He could even right himself and twist out of a bind with appreciable slickness.

But one thing the second-born did not display was any early signs of cleverness. Katla's ear, her tail, his mother's toes and nose... a clod of dirt. These things and anything and everything else were met with his gums when he was wanting to suckle, and on more than one occasion he would swat away or nose past the very thing he was searching for. Fortunately for him he was seldom left to struggle this way for too long, and presently he was enjoying a great drink of the good stuff after having been scooped to the feeding post and having managed to latch to the proper appendage.

With a teat finally in his mouth (it had taken a moment! perhaps as many as two!), the boy had no interest in being disturbed. His response to the snuffling and presence of some new being was muffled squeak-growling, followed by a series of twitchy kicks from one of his stubby hind-paws as he felt the newcomers limb settle beside him.

Each day things seemed to change. Exposed to more and more things, Ikki seemed to take stock of things with the bold curiosity of a young one. As Astrid gets comfortably, so does she, wedging herself right next to her and mirroring her with a little smile. HI! she cheerily greets. Volume… she was still learning about. 

Ikki turned around, looking for her sister. Where was she?

Her siblings protest, spurning the idea of sharing warmth and clinging only to each other. It is amusing how such tiny beings could make their opinions known so fiercely. All they inherited of Figment’s good sense could not lull their tempers, for they were her children, too.

“Astrid, Lemmikki, this is Swiftlet and Katla. Your new cousins,” she introduces and watches as the girls pile close, sweet with her own. She folds them all together with her forearms and tail, laughing at Ikki’s enthusiastic greeting.

“When you’re all a little bigger you’re going to have so many adventures and so many laughs and fun times together. But right now they’re just tiny babies so we have to be gentle with them until they’re old enough to play along.” She gives Astrid a lick over the eyes before doing the same to Lemmikki.

“Now, who wants to hear the story about the vain ant?”

The lumps have names and faces! Ikki, too, squirms up to Astrid's side, and she's not quite sure what to make of it. Her lip curls upward when the little child shrieks a greeting before decidedly settling back down in a frumpy scowl — a comfortable position was found, so Ikki could sit next to her, she supposed.
Swiftlet and Katla are the titles of the two lumps, and Astrid's blocky puppy head turns in a tilt. Hallo Swiftlet, hallo Katla, she gives each of them a curt greeting before she nudges their tiny faces with the tip of her nose. There weren't always so many other children in Kvarsheim, and while Astrid hardly remembered a time where it was only her and her brothers, some spoiled part of her longed for it back. These puppies are stinky and slimy and drool a lot. But Tauris says one day they'll go on adventures together!
So this was okay. For now.
Tail flippantly waving in a stiff wag behind her, she nods; a story! A good distraction from the horrible sensation of puppy drool, and sound of puppy cries!