Dragoncrest Cliffs Hematite

Oh, finally, she arrived. In that very moment, a lot changed for the little blot born of the healer and the guardian. Quickly in her little bubble of a world, or rather, now lack thereof as her mother knowingly cleaned her free, she suddenly had to adjust to this new chapter of her life, beyond the confines of all she had ever known, and all she had ever been, really.

She cleared her lungs with a big gasp for someone so small. Suddenly, everything was so very, very real. And cold!! Terribly drafty, exposed, out in the relative open like this—now she was not to sure, especially once sensations processed all as weird and horrifyingly all around her. She found the force in her to belt out a few good squeaky complaints, some note in between a whine and a cry as she squirmed.

But, with that said and evidently easing off her mind, she quieted after and wobbled less. Each fuss was quieter than the last—soothed, gradually, and soon back among all the others she had known before. It was just a little different this time. Not bad. Just.. different. She was comfortably tucked against the warm fur of Portia's belly, eventually nestled amongst her siblings.

Well, now, her complaints didn't seem so necessary. What else could she need? What else was there?

She muffled her last whimpers into a grumble as she started to feed instead, and then the real, satisfying contentment followed. Opalia, though it was still going to be a minute before she would answer as such, wriggled herself in close and now took to the new feeling of warm, fresh milk with gusto—until it was the heavy weight of a mighty sleep that stopped her.