Swiftcurrent Creek morgan le fay

Jakub was one week old today.

A week, in a year, in a lifetime in a century in an eon in the universe—

It was a very small thing.

But to this very small boy, a week was massive.

He'd taken stock of his world, insular as it was. Warm, dark, quiet. Whatever worlds before were fading away with each sleep; dreams captured them for a while, but upon waking, they vanished.

All that mattered now was @Jakoul—the sun, the ruling planet, the anchor—and her satellites. One, two, three. . .all fell into place.

This evening, he suckled slowly, eyes still shut as he relished the trickle of milk along his tiny tongue.

Her baby.

Jakub was hers in all ways.

Mae was hers in all ways.

Nicodem was hers in all ways.

Her love had become a swallowing obsession. She hardly allowed anybody in the den with them still so small and fragile. Reverie may sit near. Everybody else would be forced to stop at the mouth of the den.

Milk flowed freely, a thing she felt immensely grateful for with three at her side.

A tongue moved to run down the back of her dear son.

At the pressure upon him, the suckling stopped.

His lips loosed, his head lolled back.

The milk streamed from her nipple down in a rivulet through her belly fur.

He couldn't see or smell it;

But the lack of sustenance struck him like a lightning bolt.

He latched back furiously, taking her in with alacrity, cheeks sucked in with the effort. Even his little tail moved back and forth, a swift metronome. His tiny body vibrated. He feasted.

His smallness did not lack any ferocity.

She found a great pride in this and allowed him back to feasting once more. Although it would not be without her own approval rumbles over his little head.

How big would he grow?

Would he carry the muscle of a father or the ungodly bony figure of his mother?

She inhaled the thick scent of baby.

As he suckled, he buried his temple further and further into her belly. His toes curled, and he was undoubtedly happy.

And the milk filled his belly, and the sustenance filled his senses, and he drifted off.

He was sleeping again.

Dreaming.

But the dreams were of worlds far beyond this, worlds where he walked and talked and sang and even—even!—inhabited bodies far past this one.

He slept. Dreamt. Loved. He was content.

im okay to keep this short btw since they're so young here <33

She had come to know when they slept. Tiny blobs of thoughtless things.

If they did not feast upon her like she was a sacrifice, then they slumbered like gods in wait. She had learned quick to sleep when they did.

Even if they were not particularly nosy.

So she allowed her head to drape over her paws, silver eyes fixed upon the inky blob of her son.

She too would join him on the otherside of inhabiting things beyond them.