Days later, our babies have names now.
Leonie, the girl, clings to her mother Lightning, while Finn, the boy, curls into me.
I liked Leonie because it sounded feline. Finn sounded feline as well. For two tigers named after natural phenomena, we picked the most human-sounding names.
Lightning bathes Leonie, who trembles and quivers. Finn's fur gleams from his own bath. He didn't put up any kind of resistance either. But then, both of them are too young to give us much trouble. I wish I could see them grow, but then, that would require staying in this virtual land, and that's not sustainable. Even if this feels like a family--a wacky extended one.
Pacing at the entrance to the den, Demos carries out his guard duties, spelling Lobo. Kasz also patrols, poking with his scimitar at every shadow. Even Dag loops in a lackadaisical way, and Gussie bird-dogs him. Those two. The comedy team I didn't know I needed.
