Oh, I'll be your daydream.

Filavandrel, Prince of Shiroshika. The second of his name, firstborn to the union Emperor Quicksilver and Empress Reiko. It sounded so grand to some and there were great expectations in his future, but the earliest days of the newest aén Fidháil cubs were spent mostly asleep. He nursed regularly and he developed as normal. Life, so far, was without complication.

He roused from a particularly lengthy afternoon nap, and parted his toothless jaws in the widest of yawns. Tongue trapped adorably between baby-soft lips, little Filavandrel nosed around for a source of his mother's milk. He shifted between @Yaevinn and @Vienne, driven by hunger, and emitted a soft mewl in request for assistance. 


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Yaevinn had been napping when Filavandrel began rooting for food. He woke as his brother yawned and parroted the sluggish exhale. Then, intrigued by his brother's movement, he blindly swung his head towards his sibling and opened his mouth into a toothless grin.

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Quicksilver, too, had napped. Between his patrols of Shiroshika borders, guard duty of Reiko's whelping den and the increased hunts he took part in to feed his beloved while she nursed their newborns, Quicksilver tried to doze little and often. The Summertime heat had taken its toll on him that day and while the rains had come, the atmosphere remained uncomfortably humid. He was content to lay with his back pressed to the cool stone of the family's cave, dozing quietly, until a soft little cry brought his ears forward.

Swiftly returning to reality, the new father rose to his paws and closed the distance between himself and the cubs, blue-grey eyes searching amongst the trio for whoever might have difficulty. He saw Yaevinn writhe toward his brother who, likely roused by hunger, had begun to rummage unsuccessfully at his mother's belly for a reliable food source to suckle from. Quicksilver gingerly nudged his firstborn to the side where, hopefully, he'd sniff out a willing teat all on his own, before withdrawing to observe.


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An adult loomed over him and Filavandrel felt the presence of him, though was unafraid. He carried on rooting among the furs of his mother's belly for a milk supply, his unsuccessfully drawing tufts of alabaster fur into his mouth and suckling uselessly on them. Only when a care-giver bumped him off to the side, closer to the sweet-scented source of nourishment, did he squeak his delight and gather a teat between his eager jaws.

He suckled hungrily, little lilac paws paddling to better release the warm liquid onto his tongue.


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They weren’t alone. Yaevinn tipped his head back to “look” up at Quicksilver. His gummy grin remained intact as he silently willed attention from the familiar presence.

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Quicksilver couldn't help but smile at the newborns; he could watch and listen to them all day long. There was something endearing about the way they emitted those gentle little sounds, the softness with which they interacted with their littermates. He found himself glad that there were three of them, and found comfort in knowing they had each other to grow up and learn with.

He settled, as they did, and watched over the trio in silence. Pale eyes swept lovingly over them, taking in the light shades of their dorsals and feeling as though he might need to pinch himself. They were here, at last, and they were his.


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When he drank his fill, the pale child parted his jaws wide in a yawn. Fat and happy, Filavandrel settled in close to his mother and siblings, seeking their warmth as he let sleep sweep him away.


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