Now that Marahute was in the room the puppies, who were just a little curious before, were all out excited. They propped themselves up against the bedside, standing on their hind legs while their little paws perched against the bedside. The white boy, Vladmir tried to leap up at one point, but unfortunately gravity still worked and he just plopped back onto the floor. They were still too small to make it all the way up onto the bed. It only took one bark from Misha and then there was a chorus of high pitched puppy barking.
“The puppies...” when she started talking they just yipped louder, so in a super mature, motherly way, she just yelled over them. “The puppies are doing good! As if you couldn't tell!”
“Chikkun!” one of them yelled, and then their barking turned into an arrhythmic chant; “Chikkun chik un cheekeeen!” Orin looked at Marahute, and then Niro. “I don't think they're going to stop any time soon!” She yelled over them. “I'm going to check the kitchen to see what's in stock! Hopefully there's something ready that I can grab you quickly!” With that she stood and moved over to the door, almost as if she was going to leave Niro with her boisterous brood. But just as she reached the hallway she turned around and made a noise, and two puppies bounded after her.
“Svetlana,” she called the last pup, but the girl was up to something and couldn't be disturbed. Somehow, the white and black puppy had gathered a mouthful of sheets and she had pulled herself up to the edge of the mattress. Oversized white puppy paws managed to find their way over the edge, and after much furious kicking of two hind legs, the child managed to wriggle her way onto the bed. “Svet, honey, no. Uncle Niro doesn't feel good.” She came back into the room and was going to pluck the girl off of the bed, but Svetlana lowered herself onto the blankets and whined. Her icy blue eyes were full of worry when she looked at her mother and then her uncle, and there was a strange depth to the emotion in the puppy's gaze. Orin paused and just watched her in awe.
Instead of leaping all over Niro as her previous excitement would have purported, she kept her belly on the mattress and crawled forward slowly. She snaked up Niro's side, and when she butted up against him she stopped abruptly, ears dropping back as she watched him as though waiting for him to yelp in pain. Orin tilted her head and just stared at the puppy. When no one stopped her, Svetlana painstakingly scooted up further until she was at Niro's side, then settled her chin on Niro's arm. Her azure eyes stared up into his face, ears back, but her white tail twitched with a reassuring wag.
By now, Orin's jaw had dropped open. She had never seen anything like this before. Her children were too young and innocent to understand how badly Niro was hurt, yet Svetlana had wriggled up to his side in such a way that looked like she was trying to be gentle. Misha and Vladmir had returned to the room and wrestled around her ankles but she didn't even notice them, so curious about her daughter's display of compassion.
“Uncle hurt,” Svetlana squeaked, and then her pink tongue lapped out to lick his cheek, though her body remained still (except for her wagging tail). Then she buried her nose into his collar, hiding most of her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “Hurt better.”
Orin's golden eyes flicked to Niro's face. “Uhh... can she stay there a minute? I'll be right back...” She could not even imagine moving her deeply compassionate daughter from her uncle's side when she was trying so hard to make him feel better. Food. Right, Niro was hungry. Somehow she managed to leave the room, her son and other daughter trailing close behind, completely unaware of the heartfelt show of empathy their sister had just displayed.
The mother returned a quarter of an hour later. Much to her luck she had found a canister of broth someone had made a few days ago, so she nabbed it and heated it over the hearth. When she came back up stairs she carried the bowl on a saucer, but there was no spoon. “I found some bread, too. It's a little dry but if you dip it...” she settled down at his bedside once again, and then realized her utensil folly and looked at him apologetically. She didn't know what on him worked and what didn't, and wasn't sure if he could handle the bowl. “I'll get a spoon,” she said quickly.
Photo courtesy of Alaskan Dude
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