Hushed Willows stained;glaucous;glycerine;gold;goat;clover;gold;

anybody that would be nearby is welcome!

there was no real ceremony in being born. a cynic would have lamented the event, rather than celebrate it. leaving a cushy, warm life - albeit one without substance - for the horrors of the whole wide world? meh. it wasn't anything to get excited about, and had cam been at all aware of the joy surrounding his birth, he might have cast a jaundiced eye upon the situation.

but there were things, here and there, to get excited about as an official earthling. it wasn't nearly as cozy as the womb had been, but he did have a giant heated pillow (later known as 'mummy') and two little blobs of flesh that might have made good stuffed animals if they weren't so, well, squirmy. and kicky. but altogether - though a poor substitute for fetal life - they kept him warm, and it was satisfactory.

the milk, too, wasn't bad either. cam liked to keep close to the tap, because the wrigglers liked to push him away from it, which was quite rude. it was tasty and, again, warm. are you getting the sense that warmth is sort of the main thing in his life? good.

but as comforting as the warm pillows and the warm stuffies and the warm milk all were, it was a little boring. so a couple days after his grand (ha) entrance, the little boy began to shuffle away from what was known and began to venture out into the unknown. what was half a tail's-length might as well have been a mile.

and it kind of sucked, because brrrr, cold! but it was undoubtedly thrilling at the same time.