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They grew more lively every day. Dexter, the male, he moved the most. He'd been first, too, and seemed to be the strongest of the three. The girl that came next, Keeleigh, she was also of a good size, though smaller than her brother. She was female, after all, and there was nothing weird about being smaller than a male. The smallest of the three, Vesle, she was frail and very little compared to the other two, but seemed also to be in good health. She did not think it was strange that they were small, even for newborns, because she was small, and her mother was small, and Lubomir had not been large for a male. They all reacted to her nudges, sometimes squeaking in annoyance, as if to say "Oi! We're napping here!". They did nap a lot, when they did not feed. A less fortunate mother would have worried about food, but for Mew it was not the case. She had saved up for this, and also some had brought her food. Hanna helped, too. Still, Mew could not decide on why she was more lucky: to be alive, or to be a mother. In fact, it hadn't dawned on her that she had, in just one night, gotten everything she'd asked for, and ever wanted. Lubomir haunted her sometimes, though, but she would push him out of her thoughts. He did not deserve to be there, the way he acted. She should have known, the way he ran away before they were an item; she should have understood how he dealt with hardship. But she was strong, and she had endured something most perhaps would not.
Her body lay curled around the small, wrapping herself around them as she watched them nap. Sometimes, their little paws moved just barely, as if in dreams. Their tails and whiskers and little legs quivered, unused to this world they had been tossed into. They were asleep, but their mother was wide awake, watching the small ones with the most fascinated smile that had ever moved her lips. |
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