Hushed Willows To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar

All welcome to those allowed within the den!

There was no shortage of family to fuss over Rusty Foxglove in the first days of her life. Never for a moment was she left to her own devices. If it wasn't her mother, it was @Everett or @Blossom, who for now she knew only as caregivers. At eleven days old, Fox was already thoroughly accustomed to being the center of attention.

Her sisters, too, were a constant. @Dahlia and @Petal seemed to inconvenience her more often than anything else, but Foxglove held no particular dislike for them. They were simply there, and always had been. And they were warm enough to nap beside.

Though she didn't quite understand it yet, her sisters were the first thing she saw on the day her eyes opened. They were nothing but looming blurs of color to her unfocused gaze; Foxglove was delighted all the same. So naturally, she started to yell.

dahlia had been positioned directly in front of her sister when the yelling began. the force of that shriek was powerful enough that her own eyes popped open. she could see little other than a pale smudge, but she saw it all the same. a squeal of her own bubbled up and pooled in what little of the empty air remained. delighted with her own sound — an unfortunate foreshadowing — she sought to drown out her sister's yelling with that of her own.

Everett's mind had been anywhere but here when the yelling began. In fact, he'd been somewhere quite far from here, though if anyone asked, he'd have a hard time saying where. Between his codex on the Isle, the pack at large, and his worry over Reina and Tybault (more honestly, with Tybault)... it's was a small thing to say that he had a lot on his mind. 

But suddenly, Reverie's daughters showed themselves to truly be her own, though what came out of their mouths was, well... hardly a song. Everett's attention snapped back to the present and the here and the now, dust motes catching the soft steam of light. He bumbled over his own paws as he turned, and sought to catch sight of whatever had disrupted them --

Reverie! he caught himself saying -- dumbstruck, then spinning towards the den mouth where he called louder -- excited, eager, punctuated with a laugh -- Reverie, come, come! They can see!!

All the whole, they screamed behind him.

Reverie was never far from her daughters. This time around she allowed herself more breaks, more stolen moments for herself when it all became too much, but even then she couldn't bear to be away from her children for long. She half-feared even now that she would lose them.

But she and Everett already made a fine pair of co-parents, she thought. She'd taken a moment for a reluctant meal when her daughters began to raise a fuss, followed quickly by her brother's call; for a moment she could only think of how grateful she was to have him here. They can see! Reverie abandoned her meal in favor of her daughters, sniffing over Dahlia and then Foxglove to assure herself that neither were hurt. Petal, too, received a once-over, though she was quiet for now.

I wonder if they're complaining or celebrating, Reverie murmured with a soft giggle, eyes finding Everett when she was sure her daughters were okay.

No matter how loud you were, there was always someone louder.

Fox recoiled from the feeling of her sister's hot breath on her face. For a moment she was incensed. She grew louder, but soon the familiar presence of her mother materialized. Immediately the girl was soothed. These were foundational lessons, ones she had already learned in some small way, and each day they were reinforced: sisters were for screaming, butting heads, making messes and challenging the world. A mother was for comfort. She quieted.

though the main character syndrome was already strong in this one, her squalling lasted only a moment longer than her sister’s before succumbing to silence. 

her mother might as well have been the sun for the radiant glow of her fur. she squeezed her eyes shut, returning to darkness, before she mouthed blindly at reverie’s nose. given her height, she instead gummed onto foxglove’s ear.

Maybe a little bit of both, Everett said, as the little girls quieted with Reverie's presence. She had a way with them that only mothers did. Dahlia turned on both Reverie and Foxglove and gummed them all about. No more screams (for now); only exploration. Everett's eyes remained soft, and he breathed a laugh, but it looks like they must be celebrating now.

He lay his head on the ground so he could be eye-level with the girls. Still so small and bright eyed! He rolled over on his back and gazed up at his sister, the sunlight gentle around her. I wonder if they'll remember any of today when they're older, and he tried to think back to when he'd been this small, but found that any memory of a world without sight had long disappeared. Still, I hope they do.