Northstar Vale And when I came to, I had an epiphery.
All Welcome  June 14, 2020, 12:53 PM
Lone Wolves

AW who would be in the den.

As she slept—on-and-off, quite restlessly—Lilitu dreamt of names and faces.

It was funny—she had no notion of the concepts of names or faces. Being deaf, she had never heard a name; being blind, she had never seen a face. But here they were, popping up, some dozen or so appearing over and over in her dreams.

The names were only whispers, though, and the faces obscured, abstract. Like a reflection in a pool of water disturbed by ripples, though not ripples created by some great impact but merely a gentle breeze. The faces were there, but distorted and blurred slightly. The whispers were soft enough to only grasp the essence of syllables.

But here they were.

They meant nothing, and yet somehow, they meant everything.

Lanawyn. Lennon. Lainie.

They came mostly in trios, too, and in smooth and blissful alliteration. Wrapping themselves around her head and into her ears. Weaving in and out. The faces bloomed like flowers before fading again, replaced by another trio.

Olive. Aliac. Alarian.

All this and Lilitu sat watching, a spectator to this cosmic show. Her mouth in the spirit world might have been agape with awe; in reality, it was agape in sleep and she was drooling all over her mother's belly. Mmmm. . .baby drool: nature's shampoo. Drool tinged with slightly-soured milk—how very fun for Ibis! Must smell delicious!

Cam. Khali. Korei


As wonderful as the dreams were, they were fleeting. They dissipated quickly as Lilitu roused, disturbed by one thing or the other. She may never be a deep sleeper, caught between two worlds as she seemed to be. The faces pulled her one way; the cool earth beneath her pulled in similar fashion. Insistent, begging.

Stay! Stay! Stay!

Her head also ached, a sharp agony that wrapped 'round her skull like the world's worst tiara. A crown of thorns, if you will—Lilitu wouldn't understand that reference, though she'd be perfectly willing to believe she was some sort of Messiah.

Messiah or not, it was a literal pain in the (area above her) neck, and she whined loudly, pedaling her paws against Ibis's lithe ribcage. Perhaps milk would solve this crisis. Blindly, she pedaled her way toward a teat. It felt as if she were swimming in darkness, looking for something lost. Would she find it? Would she—?

Oh, yeah. Well, she didn't really find it so much as bump right into it, her muzzle slamming into the fleshy nub with considerable force. The impact sent a fresh wave of hurt through her head and she winced, whimpering, before latching onto the nipple with ferocity.

Take that, nipple!

She began to fall asleep again even as she suckled, milk beginning to haphazardly spill from the tiny corners of her mouth. Soon, she was deep in slumber, her head slipping off the teat to fall gently upon her forepaws. Here came the drool again. . .

Sunny. Silas. Seabreeze.

The faces came in all shapes and sizes, of all the colors of the rainbow (another concept Lilitu had yet to learn, but somehow understood it perfectly here because dreams are wack, yo). Still distorted, still blurred. But their eyes cut through, twinkling at her like the most brilliant stars.

Green, blue, brown, gold. Even better than stars; the universe didn't make them this vibrant.
June 15, 2020, 03:00 PM
One daughter appeared to sleep, while the other roused, belligerent and needy, crowing for their mother. Ibis was locked in to a state of half-sleep herself; her body was well worn from the birthing and all she wanted was to sleep, sleep, sleep, but, that did not come easily. Every little thing kept her mind alert. The softest kick from one of her surviving girl's paws, or a nip from their toothless mouth. The birds were singing again in fits and starts, outside - which meant maybe it was morning? A shrieking crow's call forced Ibis the last of the way to wakefulness, and with a groan she tried to adjust herself and curl protectively around her daughters; but by then Lilitu had woken and was pressing against her, nibbling, agitated. Ibis felt the girl latch upon her and huffed, indignant, laying prone so that she may feed undisturbed.

She had been dreaming.

Her mothers' faces had surfaced in her mind - Seabreeze first, then Olive, and they formed some sort of calico version in one body, merging as the dream progressed. They spoke softly to her and calmed her spirit; however, upon waking Ibis could not recall what had been said, or whose voice she truly heard. It was layered, familiar, and somehow distorted all at the same time. It did not matter once she was awake, of course - the dream faded, her mind focusing on the imperative of any mother to tend to their children.

Motherhood. It was so new to her. She was unprepared for all that it entailed, and deep down Ibis knew that. She did not think of her lost children in the hours after their birth. Her focus was entirely limited to her daughters - not even Akavir came mind. They were her sole focus, her entire world, her entire universe, now. As she watched Lilitu feast, she could not put in to words (or even coherent thoughts) how strongly she loved the little bundle of grey fur. Softly shifting, Ibis nosed at the slumbering Arielle too, feeling the silken baby furs tickle at her nose. In the dark of the den both her children looked so much like her own father, and her brother - that Ibis felt a twist of regret in the pit of her belly, sighing to herself. Those she loved so deeply were gone. They would not meet her daughters, not see them transform from these little pebbles of life to their fully realized selves.

Ibis was too tired to cry, but her face pinched with a frown, followed by swift little kisses bestowed upon her little ones.
June 16, 2020, 11:36 AM
Lone Wolves

She was a peaceful child; she rarely made noise or complained. She had nothing to complain about so far—she was warm, full, and loved. She slept often, almost always curled up in her mother's armpit because it was soft and warm and she felt swathed in the scent that made her feel safe and content. 

For now, though, she was slumbering quietly next to her sister, so deeply held within the grasp of sleep that she didn't wake to her sister's stirring or even when the stirring turned to whining and rooting around for food. She couldn't even be pulled from sleep as her sister's fit had her dainty little paw scraping along her side as she searched for the milk that might soothe her discomfort. She only twitched lightly but stayed securely in her own dreamland. Areielle's dreams were not so vibrant or disconcerting; hers were blurs of muted colors that she couldn't understand because she had never actually seen anything but darkness, comforting scents of mother and sister and milk, but most of all, her dreams were composed of feelings. These feelings were ones she knew and experienced every day like hunger, warmth, coldness (this one felt very rarely), contentment, and safety. It seemed every feeling had a color she didn't know; some colors were soft and comforting while others were icy and confusing—she didn't see the uncomfortable ones very often, mostly it was only pleasant colors and feelings because that was what she experienced in her waking hours—the feelings anyway. 

It wasn't until her mother's nose brushed softly along her tiny body that she twitched again, brought partially from her sleep. And then when she felt the warm kiss offered lovingly against her velvety fur, she twitched more and stirred, this time quietly waking. She wanted to be in her spot, and she wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep here or if she had migrated here unconsciously. There was no complaining, though, she just quietly nosed her way along her mother's warm abdomen until she found the place she wanted. Her weak legs swam against the ground as she pushed her way into the warm crevice, ceasing their movement only when she wedged comfortably in her spot once more. Within seconds, she was asleep again, colors and feelings drifting through her underdeveloped mind once more.
June 22, 2020, 05:46 PM
Lone Wolves

Her mother's lips disturbed the wonderful, awe-filled reverie that the girl found herself immersed in. It was like being pulled from water—no, molasses, thick and heavy. It was with reluctance that she was plucked from the dream-world into reality, and yet. . .

She could deal with this.

Lilitu opened her jaws as wide as she could, letting out a little yawp and snapping her lips shut. She smacked her gums, idly nosing along the smaller curve that was her sister's tiny plump body. It seemed separate from the bigger mass, so okay, there was One and there was Two. It might change with time, but probably not. Her mother and sister were One and Two and would remain so as long as she drew breath.

After all, they accompanied her though the newness of it all. The dreams might reveal secrets of other worlds, but upon waking, this was the world she had been given. She would embrace it; she would love it. It was not a choice, but she chose it enthusiastically.
June 29, 2020, 12:34 PM
Song is "Superbloom" by Misterwives.

They were both precious to her in equal measure. More important than food for her own belly, or air for her lungs, they took her breath away with every tiny twitch and somnolent whimper; all she wanted to do was watch them endlessly. Bask in their newness. She kept a tally of their firsts, wearily, plucking them from the ephemera and reciting them to herself.

There, the first kick of that foot. The first whistle of air in the nose. A tiny burp - a yawn - a toot. They could do so little, they were so little, but so mighty.

One slept on while the other made a vocal debut, a tiny sound but beautiful; Ibis felt inclined to reach forth and kiss at her daughter's tiny crown, wet those cheeks with a flick of her tongue. She was so careful not to be too rough or smothering, but one thing that would come true for Ibis: she would be a dedicated mother, obsessive, protective, and ultimately more smothering as they grew than she realized now.

She drew a sleepy breath of her own and as she watched over the two girls, she began to hum a tune. She softly began to sing along to it, making things up as she went.

Resilient little thing, just like mama made you
No one needs to save you...
Ah-na-na, ah-na-na, ah-na-na,
she breathes a little beat, lowering her head to tuck against Lilitu, letting her lashes kiss her with motion.

Wallflower in the spring,
Oh, they can't contain you...
Through the cracks, you break through.
Ah-na-na, ah-na... aaawn.

A yawn pulls from deep down inside of her, and as it warms the dirt by her face, Ibis drifts in to half-sleep.
June 30, 2020, 10:07 PM
Lone Wolves

It wasn't long before a soft, rhythmic vibration pulled her from sleep. It was only partially at first, as if the feeling was part of her dream, and the tiny girl twitched a few times against where she was tucked against her mother. But as the feeling continued, Arielle was brought fully from her slumber. She lifted her head from where it was buried in Ibis' soft fur and moved it slowly back and forth as if searching for the source. 

But she knew where it was coming from, she just didn't quite understand it at first. The feeling wasn't upsetting or painful, it was actually the opposite; it felt comforting and reassuring, like it was more proof of her mother's existence when she couldn't see or hear her. She scooted some, pressing her body as much against her mother as she could, letting the vibrations settled over her. A big yawn parted her lips as she settled again, and as Ibis drifted off to sleep so did her daughter, her tiny paw reaching out towards her sister.
July 19, 2020, 11:38 AM
Lone Wolves

this is my last post since this is old <3

Music, though she could not hear it. It stirred something in her, as if she'd sensed the vibrations before—or something like them. It was rhythmic and calming, and she stretched out against her mother's belly, feeling again the pull into dream-world. But dream-world was strange and unnerving, and this. . .

This was peace.

She remained awake for as long as she could, but babies were not much known for their ability to withstand slumber. Besides, she needed it. Sleep was good. Sleep was healing, restorative, quiet—even if the dreams that came with it were not.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. And soon enough:

Vilkas. Fern. Freddie. . .

The orange eyes pulled her in, the smiling dark face an endless void, and she heard—sensed—one last sentiment before her next waking hour—

"You're much too tiny to be fighting bears, darling!"