Sawtooth Spire lone star

@Wylla to pick him up to preschool/babysitting. :,) If anyone else wnats to join, feel free!

Where had his milk gone? He missed her warm feeling, her ardor of love, and most of all, her milk. Screaming almost, at the fact that she wasn't here, he startled himself. To be brought into this life and to be abandoned, it wasn't fair, nor just— a flutter of wings danced, russian vibrant dancers kissing his nose in delight. Teasing his eyes as the danced in the sunlight that chanced upon the innards of the den, their colors painted the wall gloriously. Astraeus sniffed violently and one lodged his nostril. Panic rising, he cried and ran around the den, finally using his little paws to scratch in out. A broken dancer, wings crumpled and all, lay on the floor. Heartbroken, he whined as they all left him. Was he destined to be alone in the universe?

the child's scream is what draws wintersbane to the agana's birthing den — though he has noted the woman's abrupt absence. from the den, from their borders. for a long moment he stares at the mouth of the den, the crueler parts of him saying that if she abandons her child then his death is upon her head. but ...he thinks of quellcrist, and knows that if it were her in that den wailing for warmth and food, dying that he would not be able to stand idly by. hey, wintersbane shrugs inside the den, cooing to the wailing infant ...unsure whether the boy is old enough to hear him yet. though he sired quellcrist he had no part in this part of raising her ( or any part of raising her, really ). sshh, sshhh. i know. he assures the boy grimly, crawling on his belly in the space — thankfully spacious — and shifting to his side. he seeks to corral the boy towards the plush warmth of his fur despite that warmth and company is all wintersbane was equipped to offer him.

The lone star wasn't exactly pensive when it came to his actions, willy in spirit and awfully starved, he gave Wintersbane one sniff from as little as a rabbit's length away and determined that the man was, in fact, his mother. To think, the first event the encouraged his legs to make their first prints in the world was the call for food from a stranger who could not provide it. Astraeus had no idea it was a product of the wilds, and what exactly did he know? Well, now to walk for an example. Ah, but the promise of a meal egged him on so, lumbering his puppy fat and warming himself with his finder's belly. Where was the breast? He cried as he swayed from the vibrations in his chest, his eas pinned back and nose to pinpointing to the sky.

wintersbane doesn't know what he's doing — not really. he knows he can't provide the boy with the nourishment he needs ...at least, not right now. when he was weaned, definitely. but looking at him wintersbane can't even tell if he's old enough to be weaned. someone'll be along soon that can feed you. at least, he hopes. what were they going to do if none of the nursing/pregnant women wanted to feed him? he would starve. he would die. yet, at the same time could wintersbane blame them if they didn't want to add him to their already hungry mouths? i'm gonna take care of you, alright? wintersbane realizes that he doesn't even know the boy's name. he hadn't spoken to agana on any sort of personal level that he can remember. all i can give you is meat, kid. tone soft and apologetic despite his uncertainty on ...everything related to the boy nestling into the plush fur of his belly.

Distraught over the minimal facts;

No nipple? No shits given. Astraeus groaned and sniffed, agitated he leaped against the bane of winters' squared shoulders and them, hoping perhaps after encouragement, milk would appear to him. It's was unfathomable, how this man intruded on his residence — as if he would not beg with abandon. Truthfully, this was not an affordable mistake, even by the small beggar's distinguished caliber. The lack of gasping room was an issue of itself, the house-warmer could at least provide necessities. 
All he did was prattle with his grim bass tones about nonsense, as if he could understand. His tribulations were his own, and Astraeus' his. If they failed in equal comparison, then the young imp had no business with him. Foolish, really. An opportunity lost on his own behalf, tsk tsk. Less than gracefully, he nipped at his thigh and pounced on his tail, signaling it was his time to take his leave. His presence was stiffling him, damn it.

astraeus, understandably, doesn't seem very interested in what wintersbane can give him. or rather, what he can't provide him with. i get it. wintersbane breathes out a heavy exhale. did he really, he wonders? how much could be compare to the boy's situation? it has been a long time since he has been so young and lotte hadn't abandoned him. only with her death ...and that had been no one's fault. the nip of the boy's sharp milk teeth on his thigh draws out a small hiss of pain from the tundrian. a punctuation of breath that morphs unintentionally into a verbal, hey! in protest.

someone could've warned him that puppies had gremlin teeth.

alright, alright. wintersbane gives up, shifting when the boy's weight falls then to his tail. he hesitates, unsure if the boy was capable of producing and regulating his own body heat. he stays close but gives the little gremlin child boy space before letting up a summoning howl.

his new position in the den abandoned except for all but the child was where wintersbane waits until someone capable of giving him what he needed — mothers milk — arrived to relieve him.