Broken Antler Fen Good wives always know.

Puppies are in their transitional stage (2weeks+ old); might have eyes open, more mobility, more vocal.

This morning, before even the hesitant light of dawn touched the sky, one of the children crowed a whine-pitched howl that woke Ibis from an uneasy sleep.

She hurried to quiet the culprit before they could wake the other children, still muggy with sleep herself, and smacked @Diantha with a reaching paw by accident. It wasn't a straight punch but wasn't soft either, and as Ibis bumbled between subduing the noise of one child she tried to apologize and check on the other.

Diantha had not been eating as much as the other children. Eljay had tried to advise her on this, though Ibis was so smitten with her babies at the time the advice was disregarded. Now, as penance for the smack, Ibis tried to pull Diantha towards her belly and get her to latch and feed.

Whatever she tried was not successful. Diantha pushed back with tiny paws, gripped the thinned fuzz on her mother's belly by mistake, or outright ignored the teat when it was in front of her face.

Not knowing what else to do, Ibis let out a sleepy, frustrated, almost mournful huff and let the girl rest.

Jasmine had been the one to cry, for she had been met with the rudest awakening. Instead of the familiar touch of darkness that had always swaddled her, the night blinked away to a brightness she'd never known.

A brightness Jasmine decidedly hated.

Blinking did no good, and neither did closing her eyes. And when she found these things futile, she'd done the next best things she'd known to do: she'd screamed. More in frustration than anything else, a boiling upset that the world would decidedly change things without asking her first.

Mama's touch offered a small relief and might've done more if she'd not whisked her attention away.

Jasmine waited in a blithering quiet in case mama returned. But when the place where she'd touched grew cold, the little girl shuffled around to face her and screamed again, letting her angry wail fill the darkness of the den that should have still been hers.

Jasmine's movement wasn't easily ignored, and when she cried out Ibis turned sharply as if to reprimand her; then she saw how pathetic and small the girl appeared, unable to see well yet, or regulate herself. With a sigh, Ibis resigned herself to the duties inherent of motherhood: taming the riled girl by drawing her close, holding her.

Diantha's tiny body was positioned against her chest in the crook of one arm, while Jasmine was carefully (but not so delicately) brought close too, so they shared space together. Diantha did not appear eager to eat. She was flailing a bit, pawing at Ibis' chin while the mother focused her attention on the riled up ginger girl.

Hush now, don't wake your brother...

She wailed, and wailed, and mama met her, with her all familiar smell and all familiar touch. Rough, though Jassy knew no different. Knew not how she was handled less delicate than Diantha, less precious than Roswell.

The girl settled into the crook between mama and Diantha, if settled was an apt way to describe the squirm of her body as she sought to reverse the awakening of sight. She saw, no matter which way she turned, and her cries continued, despite mama's soft protests and her sister's shifting warmth.

With her attention almost wholly dedicated to her precious son, rather than the puny daughter who refused often enough to eat or the ginger girl that fought her on everything, it took some further protests from Jasmine before Ibis redirected her entirety to the tending of the girl; she was frustrated by this, of course.

What — what, Jasmine. Come on now, shhhh... Ibis didn't mean to be so clipped; she was overwhelmed by everything in the heat of the moment and still very hormonal, not that such things should excuse the harshness of her response. Jasmine was innocent - she was so young.

Ibis held her between her forelimbs while Roswell lay clustered by her ribs, giving him access to more food. She began to dole out licks to Jasmine's face, hopeful that the attention and the warmth would sooth her.

Lilitu and Arielle had not been this defiant, she thought, with surprising bitterness.

All her wailing worked for good; mama's attention was entirely on her. Jasmine finally found her position in the prime of mama's eyes, and that was one thing her own eyes were good for.

She received the shower of kisses and licks with dying whimpers, oblivious to the bitterness of every stripe. When the rhythm would inevitably wane, she'd blink open eyes of baby blue to stare up at Ibis with a cry. Surely mama would understand what had made her so upset. Surely she would know how to make things dark and seeingless and better again.

Baby girl, what troubles you? Ibis asks, although there is a lack of warmth to her tone. She looks to the other children nesting comfortably around her, eyeing puny Diantha for a longer moment, then returns her attention to Jasmine.

She begins by probing at her with that cold, wet nose. A boop to her face, followed by a quick lick to warm her. A boop to her chest, to her belly too. Everything smelled the same. No mess to clean up, and a full belly.

But mama did not know how to help her. Jasmine knew this, once mama offered a cool touch to her face, and that did not take the seeing away.

Nothing could help her, Jasmine decided at that moment, just as she decided the seeing was bad. While the little girl would come to accept the change in the coming days, today she would continue to cry wailing tears until her stubbornness or energy wore out - whichever came first.

we can wrap this up here if you'd like, or with another post from you! <3 Since I imagine you'll want to be wrapping Ibis up?