08-05-2019, 05:01 PM
His first memories are of darkness.
The sweet, softly rhythmic hushing is his lullaby, and it’s absence is the first indicator something is not quite right. The first time he understands there may be more to this world than what he’d known.
He does not resist, too eager for this new adventure into the unknown. Perhaps one day it would be his undoing. Today though, it aids in his birth.
His first intelligible thoughts are of the chilly bite to the air here and the brightness that stings his sensitive, newborn eyes. Shivering, he instinctively draws on the darkness to shield himself from the blinding light. It is not a thing he knows consciously, not something he would even realize for some time still is not normal. He knows only that his eyes hurt and that subtle dark pull brings darkness that eases the ache.
Blinking up, he makes no sound, recognizing the familiar presence over him, even if it seems strange and foreign. The hush is gone, replaced by the raucous music of this new world. A new tempo. A new rhythm for him to learn.
The melody of her voice weaves over it all, soothing and beautifully familiar. This must be her. He doesn’t know yet what to call her, but he knows her. He whuffles at her, damp little nose poking at hers in an almost imitation of the way she smooths her lips over him. And when she climbs to her feet, he needs no additional invitation to do the same.
Regrettably, he is not nearly so graceful in his attempt (or rather, attempts) as she is. It is only after he lands rather gracelessly in a pile of flailing limbs several times that he manages to make it upright with his feet unsteadily beneath him. Such exertion is hungry work however, and he finds himself instinctively nosing his way towards her belly to take his first meal.
The sweet, softly rhythmic hushing is his lullaby, and it’s absence is the first indicator something is not quite right. The first time he understands there may be more to this world than what he’d known.
He does not resist, too eager for this new adventure into the unknown. Perhaps one day it would be his undoing. Today though, it aids in his birth.
His first intelligible thoughts are of the chilly bite to the air here and the brightness that stings his sensitive, newborn eyes. Shivering, he instinctively draws on the darkness to shield himself from the blinding light. It is not a thing he knows consciously, not something he would even realize for some time still is not normal. He knows only that his eyes hurt and that subtle dark pull brings darkness that eases the ache.
Blinking up, he makes no sound, recognizing the familiar presence over him, even if it seems strange and foreign. The hush is gone, replaced by the raucous music of this new world. A new tempo. A new rhythm for him to learn.
The melody of her voice weaves over it all, soothing and beautifully familiar. This must be her. He doesn’t know yet what to call her, but he knows her. He whuffles at her, damp little nose poking at hers in an almost imitation of the way she smooths her lips over him. And when she climbs to her feet, he needs no additional invitation to do the same.
Regrettably, he is not nearly so graceful in his attempt (or rather, attempts) as she is. It is only after he lands rather gracelessly in a pile of flailing limbs several times that he manages to make it upright with his feet unsteadily beneath him. Such exertion is hungry work however, and he finds himself instinctively nosing his way towards her belly to take his first meal.