Love & Family [H'ia Family]

How long had it been since A’ia had found herself able to sleep peacefully, untroubled by nightmares or restless dreams? Years, she thought – since before the war had caused the death of her parents. There had been a time, after she’d lost Daeva and been taken from the Isles, where she thought that she would never slumber peacefully again. But here, curled in the dens with her mate and her three healthy pups, she found that she’d been wrong. It was not that she’d forgotten her past, or that she did not still miss her sister so terribly that it made her breathless some days. But she had learned to shoulder it, to allow herself to grieve and heal, and to never take for granted what she had found since – a family to care for, to cherish, to love.

And as the sun rose outside of their cozy den, the sounds of birds chirping from a distance muffled but present, A’ia found herself slowly waking from her peaceful slumber. For a time, she did not open her eyes; she simply reveled in the warmth and bodies surrounding her, and let herself doze in and out of a light slumber, occasionally shifting to ensure that all of her pups remained nuzzled against her side. It was during one of these times, as she found herself drifting out of a pleasant dream, that she shifted and found that only two little bodies remained there with her.

Immediately her sunset orbs opened, adjusting to the cave, which had grown slightly lighter as the day outside had moved from dusk to dawn and then beyond. Though Hektor was not there with her, her sons still slumbered at her side calmly. There was Caesar, who looked so strikingly similar to Daeva, eyes and all, nestled near Brontes, whom was so similar in coloration to his father and perhaps enjoyed sleep more than anyone she’d ever known. But Dahlia…

It did not take long for A’ia’s gaze to find her sole daughter, who’s cream form reclined half-within the cave still. She had not gone far, which was not surprisingly to A’ia; out of all of her children, Dahlia seemed to most inclined to be ever-obedient, adorably eager to please her parents at all times. With a smile on her face, A’ia lifted her head and stretched, before calling softly to Dahlia, ”Good morning, my sunshine.” She allowed a moment for the last of her weariness to leave her form before she dipped her head to gently nudge Caesar, and then Brontes, who gave a sleepy growl at the prospect of waking, making her chuckle.

”Perhaps if we can get your brothers to rise, though I’m sure it will be no easy task when it comes to Brontes, we can explore a bit today,” she said. She had hoped that for the pup's first outing, Hektor would be present - but she had not seen him for a few days now, and though she did not allow the worry to show before her young, it settled in her heart. Not because she feared that he had abandoned them - no, she did not think he would ever, but rather because the knowledge that he was away from Ser'eri made her uneasy. She wished for nothing more than to share her worries with him over the fact that their children were old enough to venture from the dens, and to ask if he thought she should allow them to wander Ser'eri. In the past, she would have laughed at the idea that she would ever request Hektor’s permission or advice for anything, but that had been when she was stubborn and bull-headed, refusing to allow herself a chance of happiness. Now she knew without question that he wished only for the safety and well-being of she and their pups, and that as such a hard-working and stalwart defender of Ser’eri, he would know best of all when it came to the security of his family.

But with him away...well. A'ia knew in her heart that Kairos territories were well-defended, and that her worry for her mate's absence and her love of her pups made her a smidgen paranoid. Still, she could only hope that he returned, and soon, to put a fraction of her worried mind to rest.

Keeping her expression sunny and pushing her worries to the back of her mind, she waited patiently for her sons to rise, deciding to focus instead on the joyous day that this would be for them - their first true glimpse into the world.

As A’ia had predicted, Caesar woke before Brontes at her gentle prompting, his lilac eyes creeping open to peer blearily around him. She could not help the smile that spread across her muzzle as he stretched and yawned, her gaze greedily drinking in his tiny toes, his little tongue, and his twitching ears that were soft as velvet. She’d heard other mothers in the past lament over how swiftly their young ones grew; she had never paid much attention to it then, but now that she was a mother herself, she knew that she would cherish each moment that she had with them. Already the time had passed so quickly, after all – they were about to embark on their first outing, and yet to A’ia, it seemed as if they’d just been born the day before.

She was brought out of her musing by a blur of sudden movement, which she swiftly discovered was Caesar pouncing upon Brontes, who woke at last with a grumpy little growl. His irritation quickly dissipated, however, and A’ia could not contain her chuckle at how very slowly he shuffled around until he was seated, eyes half-lidded as he mumbled to his siblings. She had delighted in watching each of her children’s personalities take shape and form as they grew, and a part of her eagerly anticipated seeing how each of them reacted to the world outside of their den.

Dahlia’s voice was tinged with excitement when she spoke, and A’ia rose to her feet, shaking herself as she considered the question. ”Well, there’s a stream not terribly far from the entrance to the dens – just a few paces, really. It’s very shallow in this area. Perhaps you three will enjoy that; you’ll get your first glimpse of fish, too.” She carefully maneuvered past her the bundle of pups, casting a playful glance over her shoulder. ”They’re scaly little creatures without fur or ears. They have no legs, only fins to propel them through the water. They can’t survive outside of it.”

A’ia turned her attention back to the exit of the dens then, lowering her head and squinting as she pushed through the brambles that concealed and shaded the den. As she stepped out into the sunlight, her multi-hued eyes glanced around, taking note of her surroundings. When she spotted no others and confirmed that they were very much alone, the she-wolf turned, taking a clump of branches between her teeth and tugging them aside so that the children could exit the dens without their fur being snagged and pulled. ”Come now – see the world,” she said, her words slightly muffled by the leaves held between her teeth.