Crystal Cloudfox

Ifa happily watched as his unusual patients surrounded me with care that any grandmother would envy.

"I always said they could see right through people," he chuckled, tucking a pillow behind my back. "They just need to wag their tails to create a breeze."

I wanted to object, but at that moment, one zavrian actually tried to do just that.

And when our daughter was born – a tiny miracle with ocean-colored eyes and hair as white as the first snow – a completely new story began. Now, this little life was protected not only by Ifa and me.

The saurians organized a real guard! One large Qucusaur settled right in front of the door. Ifa's little friend flatly refused to sleep separately and made himself comfortable at the foot of the cradle. Others brought the ripest, brightest, and most fragrant fruits. Once, they even brought a fish. Not to feed her, but just to share their most valuable possession.

The baby gurgled and reached out her little hands towards their noses. Some patiently allowed her to ruffle their feathers and paws.

"Brooo," the Qucusaur continued to chirp, looking at the daughter, and Ifa, standing nearby, just shook his head.

"Now you and I, bro, are the most responsible." He winked at the creature, and then leaned down to me – now his wife, the mother of his child. "By the way, remember you said you weren't sure if you were ready for children?"

I snorted, rocking the baby.

"I said I wasn't sure if I could handle it."

"And now you have a whole army of helpers. And even a personal bodyguard," he nodded at the Qucusaur, who at that moment proudly straightened up by the cradle. "Maybe another one?"

"Ifa!"

He just laughed and gently kissed my temple, and the baby, as if in response, sneezed.

"Brooo," the Qucusaur whispered, snuggling against the blanket in the cradle.

And Ifa said quietly, as if making a vow: