Group Only Leanaí - Printable Version

Now that there was no sack to be carried in, and no wind, and no moving large distances, he had calmed. It was still cold- but cold in a way that felt blearily familiar enough not to upset him.

Pressed against the soft warm of safety and full of milk, Selkie rolled over onto his pudgy side and went back to gnawing gummily on the blanket. It was still soaked with drool and peppered with flyaway threads where growing milk teeth had caught and pulled. The long trek was remembered in blurred fragments but what he did remember painted it firmly as bad, and he was determined to express this by chewing with puppyish gusto. But it was not supposed to make scratching noise.

Selkie chewed again, confused, and let go clumsily to wriggle back onto his belly. The scratching kept happening, and he squinted out at the dark room. A blurry unfamiliar shadow-shape wriggled at the narrow opening he was stopped from going past, yipping in a voice he didn't know, and fresh curiosity compelled him to get to his paws and try a few shaky steps in its direction.

Wisp finally felt safe; tucked behind solid doors, up a flight of steps, wrapped in the warm embrace of several blankets. Knowing Sarge was lurking gave her some sense of comfort, and she told herself he wasn't avoiding them, just keeping an eye out for potential threats, hunting for them now that she was largely indisposed. Anxiety over her little faelings was still too high for her to leave them for more than a bare bones piss and drink, but otherwise, she was content. Cold, so terribly cold in a way that sapped her spirit and frosted the windows, but okay.
Happy, even, despite the shadow that hung over their new family.

Nestled deep into the blanket pile and half-dozing, Wisp didn't rouse until the faint creak of the door had her lifting her head. Selkie seemed to notice the sound of scrambling nails, too, head wobbling up as he righted himself and even pulled to shaky paws.
Wisp rolled to her stomach too, smiling at the gangly-legged girl that came prancing inside with a cheery greeting. Toad, she thought, though it was merely a highly educated guess. She knew all their names, but between having only seen them briefly before they'd left, she could only match up some names to features she'd heard about or overheard spoken of. It didn't really matter; Wisp was sincerely glad that the kids, at least, didn't seem to have their dams hatred for magical beings in their hearts. She had a chance to make friends early, to show she wasn't malicious and could be trusted to guide and guard Myna and Mals kids as fiercely as she would her own.

Sentiment had always been important to the ancient fae woman, but found family had never meant so much.

Mornin' lassie, she hummed, gaze flicking to Selkie. She'd named them mostly off of a gut feeling, but she wondered how accurate she was. Only time would tell, though she had zero doubts on Wendigo. Sometimes, he already seemed to peer at her with that icy, unnatural stare that cut right through you.

Keepin' warm?

Bitterness ran deep in the blue boy, and though he was growing well and so far healthy, he did have a terrible way about staring in a way that one couldn't tell if he wasn't even seeing you or thought you were a tasty snack and debating what part would be the best to pluck while you were fresh.

Wisp moved, one of the Others moved -had been moving, actually, and he didn't know if he was comforted by the reminder he wasn't alone or annoyed by the fidgeting more-, and there was a patter of excited steps. Grumbling in puppy growls, he didn't even bother moving from where he lay on his back; just craned his head down until the back of his neck was against the blanket nest and he could see a tawny child careening their way.

And he stared, unblinking.

The room smells like fur and milk and something earthy, home in a way he doesn't have a word for yet. His body at least doesn't feel wrong anymore, just unfamiliar, and frustratingly limited. But he is determined to get stronger, so most of the time he succumbs to sleeping and eating for now. And it seems to be working, because his eyes are open now.

Though he finds he can't see very well, something large shifts nearby and he makes a quiet breathy sound in response. Small rounded ears twitch picking up muffled noises. And then there's a new sound, a new scent. Curiosity stirs in the boy before caution has a chance, he lifts his nose and scoots forward with all the grace his poorly coordinated body can give him. His paws slide and wobble attempting to close the space.

Whatever this fuzzy shape is, it has his attention and he inches ever closer determined to meet it.

—
❝ speech ❞

Newly-open eyes could not make out all the details of shape and form, and play-bow to Selkie was mostly just smudge of color. He could hear the yipping, though. First from behind, and then from the blurry thing ahead, and he stopped dead, bewildered by the sudden uproar of noise.

Was it scary? Selkie sniffed, deciding. It smelled cold and of wet fur. And also like milk, the way he and siblings and mathair and vater smelled. It was bigger than him, but it was tiny compared to parents... and if it was really scary, vater would come and eat it.

So decided, Selkie kept walking, largeeyed as more details began to resolve. Big paws and fur all messy like the blanket he had so fearlessly chewed. He sniffed again, tail swaying, and barked a single loud note to prove he wasn't scared of it.