Wheeling Gull Isle your bones, your eager blood

aw for anyone who'd be near the den, tagged for ref ❤

each day brings strange new sensations for her quickly developing mind. come sights, come smells, come sounds - synthesis of sensations she's beginning to be able to filter through. her tawny ears stand upright, cartoonishly flopped at the tips, and her baby-blue eyes are keen, reflecting a burgeoning intellect behind them. reed still cannot speak though her grumbles and whines become more syllabic as she listens to the sounds mother (@Hemlock) and the other guardian (@Witchdoctor) make, intrigued. she is less intrigued by her - brother, that's the word, @Droman, who does not produce any notable sounds and is mostly an obstacle on her more frequent journeys around their small birthing den.

most intriguing of all is the world that lies just outside the den, where she took some protesting steps some days earlier at her mother's urging. in general reed disapproves of any change to her routine without her express permission but she is willing to forgive just this once because outside is so interesting and vibrant - the new colors, the new feelings. today she is making tentative forays into the few feet outside the den, though the deepset chill in the air, she finds offputting, and complains loudly to whoever will listen in baby-babble. she wants to be outside, why can't it be warm like mom's side?

The days pass quickly, each new dawn bringing with it a flurry of changes and discoveries for the youngest of Undersea.  Droman's eyesight was growing keener, his hearing clearer, and his ability to observe and notice things had grown unmistakeably better.  He was beginning to form opinions and preferences of his own, and as his personality developed, it was becoming quite clear that he was a very particular boy.  His general quietness was deceptive, for he was incredibly stubborn and willful.  When asked to do something he did not wish to do, instead of raising a fuss like his sister did, he simply went back to doing what he wanted to do the moment he had a chance.  

This produced no small amount of frustration for his guardians, particularly since he'd been introduced to the world outside the den.  His attempts to return outside were ceaseless now, and efforts to keep him inside always resulted in him simply running for the den's opening again as soon as he had the opportunity.  His sister's squealing protests often worked to his advantage, for they served as a great distraction.  Fortunately, today they were permitted to venture outside, so Droman joined his sister in her tentative explorations just beyond the mouth of their little home.

But it was cold, which the boy found mildly unpleasant.  And while he did not protest like his sister did, he found himself in agreement with her.  A tiny shiver ran the length of his body as a gentle breeze stirred the grasses around him.  Suddenly distracted from his discomfort, he attacked a nearby clump of tall grass that had swayed a bit too much for his liking.  Tiny, almost inaudible growls churred in his chest as he tore at the offending stalks, feeling immense satisfaction at his ability to vanquish his enemy.

 whatever is causing the cold pays no mind to reed's frustrations. this is a travesty of the highest order: the would-be princess has demands that must be met. not because she must be catered to (although this is also true) but because, by god, she is the one who is making the rules as far as she is concerned.

 the blur of her brother darting past distracts her from her haughty discomfort. he's jumping on some of that funny outside stuff and making growling noises. what is he doing? she paddles over to him, pudgy form held proudly (or as imagined-proudly as a teeny thing like she can be), curiousity temporarily soothing her voice. mysterious thing, this grass he attacks, though she does not feel the need to join in his carnage, instead making her first tentative attempts at communication with him, a series of demanding murbled-yips.

Oh gosh, I'm sorry for the lengthy wait on this reply!  <3

 The grass bent and crackled beneath his assaults, crunching delightfully in his tiny teeth as he bit down and shook his head vigorously from side to side. His little growls reached a vicious crescendo after several moments of this, his tail wagging furiously behind him. He pulled and tugged at the clump of grass until it finally gave way, the dried stalks breaking under the strain of his efforts. The sudden release threw him off balance and he tumbled backward, rolling tail-over-head before coming to rest on his butt with a whump! He sat back, a little dazed at the sudden turn of events, but refused to acknowledge the dead grass's apparent victory over him. He hadn't been beaten, gosh-darnit. He was just planning his next attack.

But then his attention was distracted by his sister and her little yips at him. He cocked his head curiously at her, tail brushing the ground behind him.

no worries!

though they've shared a den since birth, reed has never bothered herself with the attention of her brother, and now that she has it, she pauses, unsure of what to do next. she does like that he's stopped - it's good, that he understand how vitally important she is, and how much attention should be paid to her. carefully the would-be princess waddles closer, reaching out her tiny nose to bump against his face, snuffing noisily as she inspects him. a similarly sized bundle of fur. smells of mother and the den and a little bit of their less-competant father-guardian. smells like her. 

she can work with this.

"mmryhp," she tells him, voice oddly authoritative for a child of few weeks. "yawrp?"