Neverwinter Forest and mouth like a pomegranate

open to anyone who'd be allowed in the den. if no one takes this in a week, i'll make it a read only & archive it. ♥

in the world outside of the womb, it is day two. a big success in that asmoses both survived birth and the first twenty four hours of his birth. to him, however, time is incomprehensible and not much is different aside from the fact that he is more aware. aware of his own body and the bodies he is plastered against. the other small pudgy one and the larger one of his amma. he knows hunger and he knows the nectar of sweet mothersmilk. day two, but it is much the same as the first few hours of life, if now he knows what to expect and is led by primal instincts of survival.

for now, asmoses basks in the warmth of his amma; teetering on the edge of awake and slumber as he yawns and lets out a small chirp of content. he is deaf to it, of course, but he feels the push of breath and the brief movement of his vocal chords required to make the simple baby noise.

Miriam didn't mind who sought her den, she knew those of the Neverwinter smell meant no harm, even if she personally, never met any of them except Mal. In her own home, she remembered the mothers and sisters would swarm the den in wonder, seeing the new maiden or warrior be born. A lovely day of celebration for the newly Amma, and now, she was one as well.

All she saw was the light, they were her light. Maybe she was of darkness, but the maiden would never let them become of the that side. She muttered prayers and hope toward the Goddess for her beautiful angel, Liliana, and asked for the protection from the Horned God to her son, a strong boy, Asmoses.

"The Horned God will give light, to thou' of darkness. May he seek guidance to you, who guards our lady in the Summerlands. Protect those who need so, for the future of the warrior." The newly mother whispered as she touched her son's head.

though unaware of the words his amma speaks — in fact, unaware that the whisper of her lips across the short baby fur of his head are words at all — he is nevertheless comforted all the same. asmoses wouldn't be able to explain why the motion felt so soothing even if he was capable of it. this is a soft and warm and good presence; safe ...is what his instincts tell him. compelled to mimic the movement — some instinct that would later form into language and comprehension of language no doubt — he moves his mouth in some sort of way making a noise that is half a coo and half a pspspspsps —, as if he were telling her some sort of secret instead of just making more baby noises.

minor pp to @Liliana

Unable of speech, she couldn't help but smile to her little warrior. How could she assume the darkness had taken over something, so innocent, and lovable? But there was always fear of how he would turn. It can come at any point, at anytime, just how it had taken her. The sinful night, but perhaps.. Just perhaps...

Was it a blessing?

She motioned Liliana closer while rubbing her nose onto Asmoses, so gently, as they were gifts from the Summerlands. 

When she was well, she knew what needed to be done. A prayer, a ritual, to the Goddess, as she needed answers. The previous ones had failed, but now that they were here, free of darkness, would she get the answer?

Was this destiny?

Or a ploy for the sins of the world?

But for now.. The mother, Amma, would love, and protect them from all.

skippable!

liliana was stirred awake by her mother's touch. she gasped, whined, but made no effort to protest. instead, she found a new resting place beside both asmoses and amma, allowing herself to bathe in both of their scents. this was all that she knew, this simple life of muffled prayers and milk, and yet there was nothing more which her tiny mind could wish to add.

at the feel of something ( a nose, asmoses would come to learn ) brush against the downy fur at the top of his head; warm, leathery and kinda wet, asmoses lets out a curious chirrup as if to ask what is this — a question he would ask much when he learned how to speak and begun to explore the world around him as it expanded. for now, he is easily and helplessly thwarted by the limitations of his weak sense of smell and taste, and the sense of touch.

he lets out a series of grunts of effort as he pushes himself in an army crawl in the dirt only managing to wiggle a few inches before his energy is spent. depleted and suddenly overcome with fierce hunger he latches greedily onto the nearest teat — that took some merciless pokes of his nose to find ( sorry mama! ) — and suckles.

 

end?

They were so small and so innocent, just as all had begun.

"Remain free," she whispered, "thoust joy to thy' world, and to thee Summerlands, bring us peace."

They knew not of the brightness, as their eyes remained close and oblivious. Sounds and smell limited, only a primal hunger, seeking out her belly for the soothing drink of mother's milk. Miriam always knew, there would be a day she would be an Amma, but not so young, and without a husband to be.

She worried, to properly care. To bring them to the light, and not the darkness that tempted her so, and brought them to the world. 

Was he, of darkness too?

Should she, be wary..?

Thoughts of a disarrayed mind, but she knew above all else- despite the madness of thoughts. They needed to be protected.

yep, yep. i wrapped up with my post & archived. ♥

his amma speaks again though this is perceived simply as soft and lilting vibrations. quick to catch onto repetition — a skill possessed by all cubs — asmoses almost detaches from the teat he suckles to whisper-gurgle 'pspspsps' again but resists the urge to mimic ( or what he thinks is mimicking ) for the call of hunger was, understandably, much more persistent. asmoses drinks until he is mothermilk drunk. it is only when he is content and full that he detaches; lets out a big yawn that near swallows his not very discernible face and falls asleep shortly thereafter with tiny droplets of milk clinging to the small hairs of his chin.