Broken Antler Fen I'm trying so hard not to get caught up now

As sad as Ibis felt following her discovery of Tambourine's body, she knew she had to stow her feelings and get back to being a mom. She was sad for the loss, but sadder because she hadn't even met the man prior to his end; the guilt she felt for losing out on that chance filled her up, choked her. She needed to see her children — so she relieved Eljay from his temporary visit and quickly nested in among the newborns. He had better things to be doing anyway, Ibis reasoned.

The smallest among the trio was a pale-coated girl. Ibis carefully nudged her sleeping shape. She was so small, the bundle could fit between Ibis' forearms right at her chest, and there was still room. Maybe she would grow; she would have to be very careful when moving around in the den... With a sigh, Ibis began to groom at the little girl's face. It didn't take many swipes to fully warm her and clean her downy coat.

You're like a little diamond, you know? She murmured down to the sleeping babe. One day you'll be big and strong, maybe even bigger than your brother. My little diamond... Hm, but that isn't a good name. Ibis pondered a little bit over it, and then came to an easy conclusion. Her other daughters had been named for those lost and beloved, and these children would be something new, something she would watch blossom.

Diantha. Ibis hummed; all of her talking roused the other two, though. The other girl made a squeak and punched the air, while the boy probed at Ibis' side, looking for a teat. Yes, you're next. I'll think of something, shhh...

The child knew little more than darkness and warmth, and the occasional cold, when her siblings shifted, or when mother moved away. Her eyes remained shut, and her ears folded, and she would know little more than these things for many days yet.

Yet even these limitations did not stifle the small mind which germinated beneath her world of darkness and warmth. When the light touched her, she would bloom - but for now, her protests and small movements revealed the girl she might become.

A punch to the air, when the world became unsteady around her. Reactionary and defensive, though she did not know the words for these motions that came on instinct. The rumblings had roused her, and now, those same rumblings lulled her back into a sense of security. She recognized her, now that she was awake: er mother, and the girl sought to bury deeper into the space between belly and brother with a prodding nose.

the yet-to-be named boy — the only amidst a sea of sisters — spends his time split between napping and feeding; with the all too frequent overlap of the two. content in his world of silence and oilslick darkness, he is over his brief upset of birth ( having entirely forgotten it ). the 'new world' was comforting all his own; nestled against his mother and sisters.

he wakes to the feeling of being prodded and lets out a small squeak that morphs into a small yawn — unaware that the noise coincided with his mother's words. he can feel the vibration of her as she spoke but he knows not what it means or that she ( or he ) is making any sounds at all as he probed 'round for a teat and already hungry from his power nap, begins to suckle.

The newly named Diantha was the most settled of the trio. She tucked right up close and remained cherubic in her sleep, oblivious to the more rambunctious sister that had woken up. This next child Ibis tried to direct towards a teat but, it looked as if there was no need.

You are a climber, like a little vine. Trying to get everything yourself, hmm? Ibis spoke quietly while the girl moved around, then began to herd her with small taps of her muzzle, or kisses, until she had oriented herself close to Ibis' belly and began to burrow; not the most comfortable moment so far.

Ibis couldn't quite think of a suitable name for her, though. A part of her wanted a child named for Okeanos somehow, but none of these children were as giant as he had been, nor as darkly oaken, and at any rate Ibis could not come up with a variation that made sense. She also could not think of anyone in her life as rambunctious as this girl-child, so she could not pick a name from the ether.

A small yawn climbed up Ibis' throat as she tried to think, issued out of her nose like a sigh, swaying the pup's baby fur. Maple. She paused after she said it, watching the girl to see if there would be any magical response.

Fawn Lily? No, she already had Lilitu to remember Lily by. Heather. Well, if she was going to try all the plant names that came to mind, she may as well add: Jasmine, maybe.

Cue another yawn, this time staved away with a sweep of Ibis' tongue across her own muzzle, then doling out swaths of warmth to clean the little fighter and prompt her to latch.

If Jasmine was a little older and a little wiser and little more hearing of the world, she might've had some smiles or scoffs or rebuttals to give. Yet the spitfire was but an ember now, hardly a match that had been struck against the box. Her flame tried to dance but founded herself trapped in her limitations.

She offered no real response to any of the names her mother spoke, but the tremors of her body felt nice. So much so that when mother stopped talking, and the little girl realized the rumblings were not coming back, she huffed and kneaded a rhythm of paws against her belly. Not searching for milk, but searching for that trembling sensation that would make her body shake.

the soft rumbles continue; following the tempo of ibis' musings. he finds them nice all the same, undeterred as he continues to nurse. after a bit, the energy he's consumed during his powernap begins to wane and sap from him until his nursing slows and he eventually detaches letting out a milk dribbled yawn. he lets out a small squeak of contentment and teeters on the verge of sleep.

Jasmine will do for now, she muses, lingering on the name more-so out of exhaustion than decision. The child seemed more animated when Ibis had mentioned it, and while the mother knew her children were too small right now to hear or to make these decisions themselves, it was enough of a sign for her.

The last child to be named was, perhaps, her most prized; no, mothers were not meant to have favorites, but this boy was her first son — as well as a beautiful mess. Fattened by his latest meal and smelling sweetly, despite the foam of white spilling from his lips, Ibis thought he was the most precious of all her children.

A sentiment that might carry on through the boy's life.

And you, oh, my sweet boy.... Ibis hummed. She began to groom him, licking his face and carefully nuzzling at his rounded belly. You will surely grow big and strong with that appetite. Bigger than your sisters, and probably me. Just like your Uncle. @Okeanos; it hurt to think of him sometimes, but in this moment Ibis could only see this as a fresh start for the relationship she had lost.

She would find a way to pay tribute to Okeanos somehow. Though he may be gone, perhaps he lives in you. A piece of me does, and he's not so different, she was rambling — so very tired. Mmm... Roswell. For those rosy cheeks.

With that done, she finished cleaning him up and loosed a yawn overtop the children. Soon they would all be asleep together — one happy family.