She let him move closer again, and with that permission granted he did so without hesitation. The dueling feelings of pride, love, and sadness became all the more prevalent as Jet was able to take a closer look at each child. Notably, the healthy one. A dark girl. A daughter.
They were going to have a
daughter. One he knew in that very instant he’d do
anything for. He didn’t think he’d ever cared for anything
so much.
Then, though, there was a touch. Jet’s attention was drawn to Finley, who’d carried and birthed these children. Who’d done all of the hardest parts, and he leaned in to try to place a gentle lick across her crown. Hoping the gesture would communicate what words could not; love, affection, and appreciation.
But.. what did they want to call her?
”Um.. Atara..?” he murmured half questioningly after a pause.
”Means like.. royalty. Princess, crown.. something like that.” He couldn’t recall exactly what it meant. Not now, but any of those were fitting.