Toad's bein' nosy :3 Will-o'-Wisp & babies >:3

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Toad was still too small to have outgrown the wonder of the inn's second floor. She wasn't very good at the stairs, and all the doors looked the same so sometimes she got them mixed up. Yesterday she'd got lost and cried pitifully at the wrong one until Da came out to save her and bring her back through the right one.

As far as she was concerned, it was simply magic. Sometimes an opening took her where she thought it would, and sometimes it didn't, and it depended entirely on the mood of the inn and the games of the faeries.

And today would be no exception. Tottling down the hall, one cracked door floated out the promise of milk and the whining of pups. Thinking Mum's bedroom had moved, Toad shoved her little face through the narrow opening, bent legs not particularly helpful in terms of leverage but eventually giving her enough momentum to squeeze through.

But it wasn't Mum at all!

Memories of Wisp were vague. A muffled lively voice, a faded chalky tinge in the air. But Toad knew this was family, still, because they were all here in the inn and that left its mark on their scent. Excited to have discovered something new, she gave a happy yip, tail a-wag, and bounded ungracefully further into the room without waiting for permission, Haigh!

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.

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The sound of romping paws had stirred her from her sleep, and she could feel the gentle pull of her siblings stirring, too. Lichen’s little body wiggled, tiny head popping up from beneath a pile of children and peering between the gray-blue furs of her mother’s belly. Her eyes were still that youthful blue, but the gentle shades of pink and purple were starting to fill in the gaps.

And she would lift herself from her sleep, following diligently after Wendigo .

There was a newcomer in their den, which was a new sort of interaction that Lichen had yet to be exposed to. What were they supposed to do with strangers? Who was this other, tiny canine, and what did they want with her family?

Carefully, Lichen would watch the way Wendigo would stare at the newcomer. The gaze seemed empty and intense, maybe a little angry. But there was a flicker of something else, too, something that Lichen’s tiny puppy brain did not yet comprehend.

So instead, she just mirrored Wendi’s intense stare, sitting herself beside him.

And she would look at the stranger.
Unblinking.

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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 ❞

Cold. So very cold.

Honor, much like her sire, was not pleased by it. She found comfort in the presence of her siblings and mother, but why must this strange new world be so damn cold? She spent most of her time tucked tightly against whatever warm body she could find, a low sense of irritation bubbling as her siblings began to wiggle and shift around her.

Were they not cold too?

Her little ears and eyes had opened, though she hadn’t used them much. The sensations were overwhelming. Too bright. Too loud. Too much. Honor was simply full of complaints.

Then came a sound she didn’t recognize.

Not mathair. Not papa. Something higher-pitched. Brighter.

Turning toward it, she stared alongside her siblings for a long moment before leaning toward the invader and suddenly letting loose a barrage of tiny puppy yips.

Strangers?

In their warmth?
In their safety?

Naw. Not today.

Keepin' warm? Wisp asked.

Toad's floppy ears pricked, mouth gaping into a tongue-lolling grin. Yeah!

She angled herself roughly into the shape of a play-bow, barking high-pitched joy at the wobbly little pups that appeared from the pile to greet her. They were smaller than her siblings, but having someone new to maybe chase and wrestle with — who could pass that up!

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.