BUT WE'RE YOUNG

OPEN FLOWERS IN THE WINDY FIELDS
OF THIS WAR TORN WORLD

She liked her warm, comfortable place in here. It was dark and for the most part quiet. She was soothed by the soft thumping of her mother’s heart for the longest time but she had been growing restless in these past few days. She wanted to do more than just feel her mother’s heart, she wanted to become it, to be the reasoning that her mother strived to protect and love her just as the dual-eyed female had with other siblings that she did not yet know she had.

As the night pressed on, the child felt her time to escape was coming nigh, and she began feeling strange things all around her in moments that passed so quickly.

It was difficult coming from that watery abode into this cold, dry world, but she had made it and the warm embrace of the goddess that she had adored for so long now comforted her as the white marked girl squirmed to a milk-swollen teat. She suckles greedily, pleased that she does not have to share this prize with any other littermates, and when the warm swipe of her mother’s tongue crosses her forehead, she emits a cry into the den before returning to her feeding. She cannot see and she cannot hear, but the smell - oh the smell - of her goddess’ fur is so soothing to her senses. After so long, she is finally capable of meeting this ethereal being who has given her life, the one that her heart and soul will live for, for the rest of her life.

But it is not the only scent that lingers in the protective den that she resides in as another feminine odor wafts in from the entrance. It tickles her nose and causes her to cease her suckling to turn from the nipple and seek out what strange smell this is. It is not her mother, then what is it? She cries out into the den as she wobbles from her mother’s belly in search of this.. new thing. Yet another scent now mingles with it, more masculine, and little understanding is produce in the newborn’s mind. She is barely capable of walking herself from end to the other, much less piecing together who was who at this special gathering. And so she gives up in her attempts to finding who these two strangers were and unsteadily climbs herself over her mother’s foreleg so that she may snuggle deep into the warm fur of her chest safely. Soft whimpers of contentment leave her tiny muzzle before she is quickly drifting into a deep slumber, her paw twitching every now and then as she dreams.

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age. twelve
daughter of. fao'lan
mate. none
pack. none
mother to. none
credit. x