Post by crescendo on May 20, 2011 20:09:10 GMT -5
Gnarled Hollow
Crawling beneath the chestnut tree, one can enter a medium-sized burrow surrounded and held against erosion by the gnarly, thick roots of the tree itself. The scent is almost overwhelming - the scent of earth, rotted vegetation, and a myriad of creatures that have at one time used this hollow for shelter fill the senses with an overload of information. But once your nose adapts, the hollow can make for a great place to sleep or hide.
Chaska, m. cougar cub
Shanira, f. cougar
Tantallon, m. cougar
Over the course of the last few days, Shanira's main emotions have been wonder, confusion and something that she can only describe as some kind of affection. (Also a fair share of anger flashes, if anyone got too close to her and the cubs.) The main bulk of these emotions have been associated with the two tiny furballs that seem to instinctively know where on her body the food is located. Becoming a mother has been so overwhelming to her that she hasn't even thought to give her new babies names yet. She's currently lying on her side as far into the hollow beneath the tree as she can get, head raised to watch the cubs with the same curiosity and amazement as the first day she laid eyes on them. Occasionally she reaches out to pat one of them with her paw, or lower her head to nose at them. So far, her instincts have worked fairly well and whenever the babies start whining, she pushes them gently towards the teats on her belly. If food fails, she nuzzles them. So far, she hasn't encountered a whine that didn't stop after applying those solutions.
The newly made father of the said two tiny furballs has been much the same as his mate, his profound curiosity however tempered with a skittish anxiety. It's almost unheard of for a male cougar to take more than a passing interest in his offspring, but Tantallon is nothing if not an abnormal specimen, and thus he remains. His first poke of the head into the den upon hearing the tiny whimpers was met with swift fury and since then he's learned not to stick his nose in dark places with new mothers inside. He hunts while she cannot, leaving no small shortage of meals at the entrance to the hollow, and otherwise paces outside in nervous circles. He shoots looks towards the den at frequent intervals as well as keeps an eye out on the surroundings, alert for dangers.
Considering the two small balls of fluff have barely started to amble about that likely will remain true for.. oh, until their eyes open and they decide it's time to explore. Lucky for Shanira, that may be a while yet. Still, the male ball of fuzz has been mostly quiet, except for occasional wails for food or attention. At the moment, he is content with slumber, curled against his mum's belly, pink flaily paws still before him, and little shallow breaths of kittensleep in his sides.
They're so tiny..! Shanira can't imagine she's been that tiny. Or that Tant has been. Or Thrash! It's amazing how quick babies grow, but she can't imagine that these small things will be as big as her one day. Reaching down to nose at them again, feeling that scent that's quickly become familiar and is recognized as... well, 'hers', she gives them both a very gentle nuzzle as not to wake them. Lifting her head again, she hears the sound of Tantallon's pacing from outside the den and catches his scent drifting in through the opening. She looks at the babies again, contemplating, gears turning in her head as she tries to make sense of all the thought fragments in there. Then after a few moments, she stretches her head in the direction of the den entrance and almost coos, "Tant?"
Tantallon pauses abruptly in his pacings, ignorant of the flattened path that's formed behind him, and jerks his head towards the den. With pricked ears and a wideset to his grey eyes, Tant moves quickly for the entrance to the densite and slowly lowers his head to peek inside. His eyes adjust quickly to the dark, though he doesn't dare yet step a paw inside in case he's not yet welcome. There's a brief parting of his jaws and flex of his tongue, smelling as well as tasting the scents, one familiar and two others that are not-quite-him, not-quite-her, and yet someone-else all at the same time. Only once he's begun committing these new smells to memory does he ask, "...are you alright, Shanira? Do you need anything? How are the kittens?"
That gentle touch is enough to start a tiny little threadpurr from the small male kitten against his mum's belly, his paws starting to knead a little against the ground as he dream-sucks at the air, little toothless mouth open and close for a moment at work. Then, snorting himself awake with a small sneeze, he snuffles, and gives a little squeaky 'meeeeaah!' of annoyance. What was that, who dares wake him! Chaska meeaahs again, not realizing he woke himself up.
The familiar scent of her mate grows stronger and for the first time in the last few days, Shanira doesn't feel the want to smack him. Always a nice change. "I'm fine," she says with a small smile at his concern, "and they are too. At least I think they are," she then adds, "because they're quiet and sleeping. That's good, right?" Just as she's said that, the male cub starts moving and thus his mother's attention in inevitably drawn to him, Shanira reaching down yet again to nose at him. "Hello, baby," she says with a tone similar to the one she used to call Tantallon. "Are you okay?" Just to make sure, she gives the kitten a little shove closer to her belly, just in case he forgot where food is. Looking over at Tantallon again, she scrapes her front paw lightly on the dirt floor. "Come in, come look at them..!"
Any male, infant or adult, inevitably knows where food is. It's just instinct. Tantallon, however, is hungry more for the sight of his family than a meal in his stomach. He doesn't need anymore encouragement from Shanira, especially once he hears the squeak from the male kitten. He crawls his way down the tunnel with caution so as not to dislodge too much dirt, his ears pricked forward intently. "...that's them? They're so tiny." His voice is quiet with awe and fascination, hardly disappointed that his children look utterly helpless and small. To him they're a source of profound amazement.
"Meeaaw!" turns into soft sucking noises as Chaska, guided back to a nipple, decides, eh, what the hell, he's awake, he can eat. Tiny paws knead at Shanira's belly, and the ball of brown and black fuzz starts buzzing again with contentment as he eats, having found that nirvana one can only know as a young child: eat, sleep, eat, sleep, eat sleep.
As Tantallon comes into proper view, Shanira greets him with a smile that almost glows as he expresses his fascination. "This is them," she confirms even though it's not needed. "These are our babies." She looks at her mate, now wideeyed. "We made them..!" The fact obviously still doesn't compute, deeming by the look on her face. Turning her head towards the cubs again, she places a gentle paw on the suckling male. "This is..." She trails off quickly, a frown coming to her face. What did she expect - that cubs were born with a name? "They don't have names, Tant," she then says, sounding guilty.
Tantallon settles in as a protective shield at the entrance to the tunnel, leaning his head forward as a grin cracks wide across his muzzle. "We did!" He says with delight as his dark tailtip shivers and jerks with excitement. "They're perfect. I bet they're going to be big and strong and smart." He looks down to the touches and awakened male, his nose confirming the gender, even as he flicks an ear to his mate's words. "Well, we'll just have to name them." He is quiet for a moment as his grey eyes grow pensive and distant, a brief flicker of melancholy filling them as he comes back to the present. "I want to name him Chaska." He says, his voice grown quieter. "Chaska was my littlest brother... he.. he reminds me of the last memory I had of him."
Unaware of the fate of being named for a dead sibling, Chaska finishes his hearty meal with a kitten yawn of no teeth and a vague flop to his side, before uttering a very manly squeak of a burp, and then staring to 'make biscuits' in the air, as it were; pawing and padding at nothing and no-one except his own contentment. Mmm. Fully tummy, the best feeling in the world.
"Chaska..." Shanira takes the name, tries it, tastes it and applies it to her baby. "I like Chaska," she concludes after a short while, reaching out to press her nose against Tantallon's side. "I think it's nice to name him after your brother," she says with a small nod. Reaching down to press her nose into the tiny furry chest of the male cub, she purrs, "Chaska." As if she's... imprinting his name on him. "I hope he learns it." Then she turns her focus to Chaska's still unnamed sister, the little one still sleeping. "Chaska and..." Her nose wrinkles in concentration as her head gears turn again. "Cha... chi... kin...Ka..." trying out different sounds, "Kach... Kachi. Kachina?" She looks up at Tantallon questioningly.
"Chaska. It shouldn't be a hard one for a baby to learn." Tantallon muses as a smile returns, settling into the contentment of being with his family and honoring a littermate he failed to save. Nevermind he was just an infant himself, but a child's promise is something nothing should be able to break, not even situations far out of their control. "Kachina?" He murmurs, testing out the feel of the name as he regards the second kitten, the female. "Sounds like a dancer's name... graceful. I like it. I bet she'll be as beautiful as you are." He dips his head down to gentle touch his nose first to Kachina and then towards Chaska, who's tiny nose he touches with his own with a very quiet, warm-toned purr.
What the fuzz?! Something just touched him that didn't feel like the regular touches. OMIGAWSOMETHINGISGOINGTOEATHIM. Chaska hiccups in surprise as his dad's touch, and then begins to flail his paws about as he half rolls over onto his belly and begins crying for his mom. Meeeaw! Meeeaw! Don't let the scary thing he can't see or hear or see or--- don't let it eat him!
About to say something to Tantallon, Shanira is interrupted and surprised by Chaska's seemingly random reaction and she flinches at the sudden cries. It takes a moment or two before she reaches out for the cub, since she really can't figure out what would have scared him so badly, but then her instincts manage to kick in once again and she curls a paw around the baby boy and pulls his flailing body close to her chest, starting to lick the little head. "Chaska, shhh..." she says in-between licks, occasionally pressing her nose to his forehead. "It's only daddy."
Tantallon pulls back his head hastily with his ears flattening, eyes blinking in surprise and then worried and guilty. "...I didn't mean to scare him." He says in a quiet, thin voice as the end of his tail fluffs. His first time meeting his son and he frightens the poor kid half to death. He ducks his head down to rest on his paws with an uncomfortable look on his face as he watches Shanira try to comfort him, looking like he'd like nothing better than to reassure the child he means him no harm but utterly lost how to do so.
Awwww, but Shanira knows just how to calm the little cub down. As she pulls him closer and begins licking, the little male-kit stops his cries, and slowly starts to relax, lifting his head at his mum's muzzle and prodding with his own little snout, before uttering a less frightened, more complacent 'meeaw' and then snuggling into her paws. Poor Tant. All kids are scared by the first touch not their mum's!
Once Chaska calms down and seems content again, Shanira reaches out to give Tant a nuzzle. "Don't worry, I know you didn't," she says, hoping to reassure him. "And he'll just have to learn that, because I'll need your help taking care of them..!" Giving Chaska's head another lick, further sculpting the tuft at the back on his head, she then noses the cub. "Daddy's good," she explains to him. "He's a nice person and you shouldn't be afraid of him." Keeping the cub close to her chest, she invites Tantallon to try again.
Tantallon seems hesitant to approach again lest he frighten Chaska. He's always been small for a male, but this is the first time Tant has ever really felt his size, constrained by the den and in the presence of such tiny bits of life. It's flabbergasting to imagine a grown adult male being intimidated by an infant one, but he is. Tentatively does Tantallon stretch out his head, creeping his muzzle closer until his nose rests beside Shanira's foreleg with his eyes peeking above and but a whisker's length away from Chaska. There he seems to wait, perhaps to let the boy make the first move.
Sniff, snuff, snufflesniff. Chaska pauses in his snuggling as he seems to smell something above him. This time he turns, squinted closed eyes and folded ears somehow attentive, though it's the little pink nose that's doing all the work. meeeaw? he turns, little mouth opening slightly as he touches at the thing, finding a whisker in his way, following it to the firm touch of his father's muzzle, and starts snuffling all over it. Hm. It doesn't smell like food, but it doesn't smell BAD. so maybe it's not the moster that was there moments before. He utters a curious squeak, and lifts a splayed, awkward paw to touch and push and prod as he finds the fur of Tant's chin, and tries to suck on it.
Shanira is almost as fascinated as her son as she watches her two boys interact. At the same time keeping an eye on Kachina, who's still sleeping soundly, she lies perfectly still as to not interrupt father and son. She does start to purr however, as Chaska seems to be catching on quick. She had no idea that being a mother could make her feel so proud.
He's not moving, hesnotmoving! See! Perfectly peaceful and offering no danger at all. Tantallon lays there like a statue, eyes as wide as saucers as he stares down at Chaska. Granted he can barely see the tiny kitten past his own nose, but he can feel him there and doesn't dare twitch save the nervous quivering of whiskers. There's the faintest gurgle in his throat as he wants to purr but is afraid of scaring the boy off again. Of course, Tantallon's chin doesn't taste very good, mostly like dirt and certainly not like milk. That would be awkward if it did.
No food here. With a hiccupy snort, Chaska decides that the hairy chin of his father is not a good meal, and lets go after making only a small complaint that his father should taste more like milk, which only comes out with a 'Meer.' of annoyance, before he settles wobbily back down among his mother's paws sleepily.
The purr carries on as Shanira first nuzzles Chaska, then Tantallon's cheek. Securely folding her paws around the male cub, she lowers her head to rest next to Tantallon's, pressing her forehead against the cheek she just nuzzled. "Soon he'll be able to see you and then he'll know what a great father he has," she coos, giving Tant a single lick. "And when Kachina wakes up, I'm sure she'll be just as curious about you as you are about her."
Crawling beneath the chestnut tree, one can enter a medium-sized burrow surrounded and held against erosion by the gnarly, thick roots of the tree itself. The scent is almost overwhelming - the scent of earth, rotted vegetation, and a myriad of creatures that have at one time used this hollow for shelter fill the senses with an overload of information. But once your nose adapts, the hollow can make for a great place to sleep or hide.
Chaska, m. cougar cub
Shanira, f. cougar
Tantallon, m. cougar
Over the course of the last few days, Shanira's main emotions have been wonder, confusion and something that she can only describe as some kind of affection. (Also a fair share of anger flashes, if anyone got too close to her and the cubs.) The main bulk of these emotions have been associated with the two tiny furballs that seem to instinctively know where on her body the food is located. Becoming a mother has been so overwhelming to her that she hasn't even thought to give her new babies names yet. She's currently lying on her side as far into the hollow beneath the tree as she can get, head raised to watch the cubs with the same curiosity and amazement as the first day she laid eyes on them. Occasionally she reaches out to pat one of them with her paw, or lower her head to nose at them. So far, her instincts have worked fairly well and whenever the babies start whining, she pushes them gently towards the teats on her belly. If food fails, she nuzzles them. So far, she hasn't encountered a whine that didn't stop after applying those solutions.
The newly made father of the said two tiny furballs has been much the same as his mate, his profound curiosity however tempered with a skittish anxiety. It's almost unheard of for a male cougar to take more than a passing interest in his offspring, but Tantallon is nothing if not an abnormal specimen, and thus he remains. His first poke of the head into the den upon hearing the tiny whimpers was met with swift fury and since then he's learned not to stick his nose in dark places with new mothers inside. He hunts while she cannot, leaving no small shortage of meals at the entrance to the hollow, and otherwise paces outside in nervous circles. He shoots looks towards the den at frequent intervals as well as keeps an eye out on the surroundings, alert for dangers.
Considering the two small balls of fluff have barely started to amble about that likely will remain true for.. oh, until their eyes open and they decide it's time to explore. Lucky for Shanira, that may be a while yet. Still, the male ball of fuzz has been mostly quiet, except for occasional wails for food or attention. At the moment, he is content with slumber, curled against his mum's belly, pink flaily paws still before him, and little shallow breaths of kittensleep in his sides.
They're so tiny..! Shanira can't imagine she's been that tiny. Or that Tant has been. Or Thrash! It's amazing how quick babies grow, but she can't imagine that these small things will be as big as her one day. Reaching down to nose at them again, feeling that scent that's quickly become familiar and is recognized as... well, 'hers', she gives them both a very gentle nuzzle as not to wake them. Lifting her head again, she hears the sound of Tantallon's pacing from outside the den and catches his scent drifting in through the opening. She looks at the babies again, contemplating, gears turning in her head as she tries to make sense of all the thought fragments in there. Then after a few moments, she stretches her head in the direction of the den entrance and almost coos, "Tant?"
Tantallon pauses abruptly in his pacings, ignorant of the flattened path that's formed behind him, and jerks his head towards the den. With pricked ears and a wideset to his grey eyes, Tant moves quickly for the entrance to the densite and slowly lowers his head to peek inside. His eyes adjust quickly to the dark, though he doesn't dare yet step a paw inside in case he's not yet welcome. There's a brief parting of his jaws and flex of his tongue, smelling as well as tasting the scents, one familiar and two others that are not-quite-him, not-quite-her, and yet someone-else all at the same time. Only once he's begun committing these new smells to memory does he ask, "...are you alright, Shanira? Do you need anything? How are the kittens?"
That gentle touch is enough to start a tiny little threadpurr from the small male kitten against his mum's belly, his paws starting to knead a little against the ground as he dream-sucks at the air, little toothless mouth open and close for a moment at work. Then, snorting himself awake with a small sneeze, he snuffles, and gives a little squeaky 'meeeeaah!' of annoyance. What was that, who dares wake him! Chaska meeaahs again, not realizing he woke himself up.
The familiar scent of her mate grows stronger and for the first time in the last few days, Shanira doesn't feel the want to smack him. Always a nice change. "I'm fine," she says with a small smile at his concern, "and they are too. At least I think they are," she then adds, "because they're quiet and sleeping. That's good, right?" Just as she's said that, the male cub starts moving and thus his mother's attention in inevitably drawn to him, Shanira reaching down yet again to nose at him. "Hello, baby," she says with a tone similar to the one she used to call Tantallon. "Are you okay?" Just to make sure, she gives the kitten a little shove closer to her belly, just in case he forgot where food is. Looking over at Tantallon again, she scrapes her front paw lightly on the dirt floor. "Come in, come look at them..!"
Any male, infant or adult, inevitably knows where food is. It's just instinct. Tantallon, however, is hungry more for the sight of his family than a meal in his stomach. He doesn't need anymore encouragement from Shanira, especially once he hears the squeak from the male kitten. He crawls his way down the tunnel with caution so as not to dislodge too much dirt, his ears pricked forward intently. "...that's them? They're so tiny." His voice is quiet with awe and fascination, hardly disappointed that his children look utterly helpless and small. To him they're a source of profound amazement.
"Meeaaw!" turns into soft sucking noises as Chaska, guided back to a nipple, decides, eh, what the hell, he's awake, he can eat. Tiny paws knead at Shanira's belly, and the ball of brown and black fuzz starts buzzing again with contentment as he eats, having found that nirvana one can only know as a young child: eat, sleep, eat, sleep, eat sleep.
As Tantallon comes into proper view, Shanira greets him with a smile that almost glows as he expresses his fascination. "This is them," she confirms even though it's not needed. "These are our babies." She looks at her mate, now wideeyed. "We made them..!" The fact obviously still doesn't compute, deeming by the look on her face. Turning her head towards the cubs again, she places a gentle paw on the suckling male. "This is..." She trails off quickly, a frown coming to her face. What did she expect - that cubs were born with a name? "They don't have names, Tant," she then says, sounding guilty.
Tantallon settles in as a protective shield at the entrance to the tunnel, leaning his head forward as a grin cracks wide across his muzzle. "We did!" He says with delight as his dark tailtip shivers and jerks with excitement. "They're perfect. I bet they're going to be big and strong and smart." He looks down to the touches and awakened male, his nose confirming the gender, even as he flicks an ear to his mate's words. "Well, we'll just have to name them." He is quiet for a moment as his grey eyes grow pensive and distant, a brief flicker of melancholy filling them as he comes back to the present. "I want to name him Chaska." He says, his voice grown quieter. "Chaska was my littlest brother... he.. he reminds me of the last memory I had of him."
Unaware of the fate of being named for a dead sibling, Chaska finishes his hearty meal with a kitten yawn of no teeth and a vague flop to his side, before uttering a very manly squeak of a burp, and then staring to 'make biscuits' in the air, as it were; pawing and padding at nothing and no-one except his own contentment. Mmm. Fully tummy, the best feeling in the world.
"Chaska..." Shanira takes the name, tries it, tastes it and applies it to her baby. "I like Chaska," she concludes after a short while, reaching out to press her nose against Tantallon's side. "I think it's nice to name him after your brother," she says with a small nod. Reaching down to press her nose into the tiny furry chest of the male cub, she purrs, "Chaska." As if she's... imprinting his name on him. "I hope he learns it." Then she turns her focus to Chaska's still unnamed sister, the little one still sleeping. "Chaska and..." Her nose wrinkles in concentration as her head gears turn again. "Cha... chi... kin...Ka..." trying out different sounds, "Kach... Kachi. Kachina?" She looks up at Tantallon questioningly.
"Chaska. It shouldn't be a hard one for a baby to learn." Tantallon muses as a smile returns, settling into the contentment of being with his family and honoring a littermate he failed to save. Nevermind he was just an infant himself, but a child's promise is something nothing should be able to break, not even situations far out of their control. "Kachina?" He murmurs, testing out the feel of the name as he regards the second kitten, the female. "Sounds like a dancer's name... graceful. I like it. I bet she'll be as beautiful as you are." He dips his head down to gentle touch his nose first to Kachina and then towards Chaska, who's tiny nose he touches with his own with a very quiet, warm-toned purr.
What the fuzz?! Something just touched him that didn't feel like the regular touches. OMIGAWSOMETHINGISGOINGTOEATHIM. Chaska hiccups in surprise as his dad's touch, and then begins to flail his paws about as he half rolls over onto his belly and begins crying for his mom. Meeeaw! Meeeaw! Don't let the scary thing he can't see or hear or see or--- don't let it eat him!
About to say something to Tantallon, Shanira is interrupted and surprised by Chaska's seemingly random reaction and she flinches at the sudden cries. It takes a moment or two before she reaches out for the cub, since she really can't figure out what would have scared him so badly, but then her instincts manage to kick in once again and she curls a paw around the baby boy and pulls his flailing body close to her chest, starting to lick the little head. "Chaska, shhh..." she says in-between licks, occasionally pressing her nose to his forehead. "It's only daddy."
Tantallon pulls back his head hastily with his ears flattening, eyes blinking in surprise and then worried and guilty. "...I didn't mean to scare him." He says in a quiet, thin voice as the end of his tail fluffs. His first time meeting his son and he frightens the poor kid half to death. He ducks his head down to rest on his paws with an uncomfortable look on his face as he watches Shanira try to comfort him, looking like he'd like nothing better than to reassure the child he means him no harm but utterly lost how to do so.
Awwww, but Shanira knows just how to calm the little cub down. As she pulls him closer and begins licking, the little male-kit stops his cries, and slowly starts to relax, lifting his head at his mum's muzzle and prodding with his own little snout, before uttering a less frightened, more complacent 'meeaw' and then snuggling into her paws. Poor Tant. All kids are scared by the first touch not their mum's!
Once Chaska calms down and seems content again, Shanira reaches out to give Tant a nuzzle. "Don't worry, I know you didn't," she says, hoping to reassure him. "And he'll just have to learn that, because I'll need your help taking care of them..!" Giving Chaska's head another lick, further sculpting the tuft at the back on his head, she then noses the cub. "Daddy's good," she explains to him. "He's a nice person and you shouldn't be afraid of him." Keeping the cub close to her chest, she invites Tantallon to try again.
Tantallon seems hesitant to approach again lest he frighten Chaska. He's always been small for a male, but this is the first time Tant has ever really felt his size, constrained by the den and in the presence of such tiny bits of life. It's flabbergasting to imagine a grown adult male being intimidated by an infant one, but he is. Tentatively does Tantallon stretch out his head, creeping his muzzle closer until his nose rests beside Shanira's foreleg with his eyes peeking above and but a whisker's length away from Chaska. There he seems to wait, perhaps to let the boy make the first move.
Sniff, snuff, snufflesniff. Chaska pauses in his snuggling as he seems to smell something above him. This time he turns, squinted closed eyes and folded ears somehow attentive, though it's the little pink nose that's doing all the work. meeeaw? he turns, little mouth opening slightly as he touches at the thing, finding a whisker in his way, following it to the firm touch of his father's muzzle, and starts snuffling all over it. Hm. It doesn't smell like food, but it doesn't smell BAD. so maybe it's not the moster that was there moments before. He utters a curious squeak, and lifts a splayed, awkward paw to touch and push and prod as he finds the fur of Tant's chin, and tries to suck on it.
Shanira is almost as fascinated as her son as she watches her two boys interact. At the same time keeping an eye on Kachina, who's still sleeping soundly, she lies perfectly still as to not interrupt father and son. She does start to purr however, as Chaska seems to be catching on quick. She had no idea that being a mother could make her feel so proud.
He's not moving, hesnotmoving! See! Perfectly peaceful and offering no danger at all. Tantallon lays there like a statue, eyes as wide as saucers as he stares down at Chaska. Granted he can barely see the tiny kitten past his own nose, but he can feel him there and doesn't dare twitch save the nervous quivering of whiskers. There's the faintest gurgle in his throat as he wants to purr but is afraid of scaring the boy off again. Of course, Tantallon's chin doesn't taste very good, mostly like dirt and certainly not like milk. That would be awkward if it did.
No food here. With a hiccupy snort, Chaska decides that the hairy chin of his father is not a good meal, and lets go after making only a small complaint that his father should taste more like milk, which only comes out with a 'Meer.' of annoyance, before he settles wobbily back down among his mother's paws sleepily.
The purr carries on as Shanira first nuzzles Chaska, then Tantallon's cheek. Securely folding her paws around the male cub, she lowers her head to rest next to Tantallon's, pressing her forehead against the cheek she just nuzzled. "Soon he'll be able to see you and then he'll know what a great father he has," she coos, giving Tant a single lick. "And when Kachina wakes up, I'm sure she'll be just as curious about you as you are about her."