“Achoo!” A tiny newborn nicheling sneezed. Her fur was a grayish brown, and she had the crooked jaw of her parents. Her pale pink horns curved around her face. Her tail was a modest length, reaching around the middle of her back. She squirmed a bit, until she felt something furry. She leaned in, and it was warm. She didn’t know why, but she began feeling around for teats with her two nimble hands. She found one, and began suckling, while mewing every now and then.
“Mouse.” Her ears barely picked that up. As she pricked up her ears in curiosity, she could hear a soft chuckle.
~two days later~
Mouse opened her eyes. Just barely. She could see many blurry figures. The blurry figures emanated both happiness and greif. The greif was worrying, so she decided to focus on the happiness. “She’s beautiful.” Something ran through her fur, and the voice of that something was croaky. Quite croaky.
“The first baby born under my rule!” Another voice. This one wasn’t croaky. This one was energetic. It was deep, and energetic. The owner of the voice put his snout so close to Mouse, she could feel his breath blowing over her fur. She reached out to touch it, and as she poked around, she noticed it was crooked. It wasn’t even.
She then touched her own snout. It wasn’t even either. She squealed, and then reached out to touch the something that had run through her fur. It was furry and soft. She poked around a bit, and was quite startled when she felt something not-soft. She poked the not-soft parts, and poked the end. It was sharp. Claws.
Mouse suckled some more milk, then contentedly fell asleep.