Press your lips to the sculptures
#6
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It was strange. Alexey couldn’t recall ever feeling this happy. Well, happy and sad at the same time. Their noses touched and the Caregiver returned the baby boy’s affectionate nuzzle, overjoyed to be holding him in her arms. She literally clung to him as he vainly attempted to cuddle a little closer. It was hard to tell whether he recognized her or not. After all, most pups his age would cuddle up to basically anyone after spending so much time alone. Alexey understood this, but she wasn’t prepared for the child’s next comment. Mommy? She shook her head mutely, not wanting to voice her answer.

“No Conor, not mommy. Lexey,” she explained, hoping those few words would suffice. Watching him try to eat the small piece of dried meat was heartbreaking. She’d seen Emwe eat large chunks of deer without any difficulty. That wasn’t the case with little Conor. He barely had enough strength to open his mouth. Amber-colored eyes watched the jerky fall to the floor, a pained expression plastered on her face. Just as she’d thought, there was no way he would be able to swallow solid food. The babysitter took another small piece from the bag and chewed it up, turning the meat into a paste.

“Come here honey,” she said, lowering her muzzle to his and pushing the food inside his mouth. Under normal circumstances, Lexey would’ve considered this to be disgusting. But given the gravity of the situation, it was the only alternative she could think of.




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