I get to love you.

On bidding his Vanderfell friends a fond farewell, Quicksilver's thoughts turned to Reiko and their newborns. He descended the summit toward Shiroshika's neighbouring claim as swiftly as his careful paws would allow. He was so eager to be close to them once more, and irrationally fearful that he might have missed something.

The druid announced his arrival to @Reiko with a soft croon, then stepped quietly into her whelping hollow. His pale gaze was soft on her, studying her features; he could see that she was tired. Butting his brow gently to her own, he shifted to deliver a feathered kiss to the bridge of her snout.

Quicksilver maneouvered his frame to lay alongside the snowflower's own, positioned so that she could rest against his flank and with his head draped lovingly over hers so he could observe the trio of tiny beings nestled at her belly. “Hello,” he cooed uselessly to the three, knowing they could not yet hear his voice, but he did not wish to greet them with silence, “Daddy's home.”


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There was not much to a newborn's first days of life. He roused from slumber often, and only long enough to fill his empty belly before settling in among siblings again. There was comfort in the warmth of his family, and he was tucked snugly between the other two little bodies who'd shared a womb alongside him when their father returned to the den.

The pallid babe did not wake. He slept deeply, soundly, his breaths exhaling in soft little snores.


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The silverwhite knew they would not understand him, were not able to even hear him, yet still he spoke softly to them. Lovingly, his pale eyes swept over each individual little dorsal: one as white as his mother's, another dusted with ash, and a precious daughter who wore hues that better matched his own. They would change in the coming weeks as the Boesch children had, developing swiftly from tiny, short-nosed newborns and into perfect miniatures of the adult forms they were destined to take.

Quicksilver wished only to cherish the moments. He smiled softly over his mate's hip, tail gently sweeping the furs on which they all nestled together, and was content to observe the way the trio snuggled close. “Filavandrel, Vienne and Yaevinn,” the druid crooned uselessly to them, eager always to test their names on his tongue.


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