The fire in the hearth crackled and glowed gently, alighting the cluttered study with a soft, warm light. It was quiet and peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm outside. Winds blew strong, rain pelted against the round glass windows and the heavy thunderclouds shrouded the light of the moon and stars in the night sky. Hunkered down at his work desk, E. Aster Bunnymund sat, round, green tinted glasses perched on the end of his nose as he scribbled down important notes in his most recent medical journal. As the only healer (the only reputable one that is) in the Southern Pookan colony, Aster had his work cut out for him to put it lightly. He needed to do almost constant research and keep his books and notes up to date. He was a scholar and didn't take his role in the little community lightly. But he'd done this for several years since graduating from his studies with the elders.

He muttered slightly as he jotted something down he'd nearly forgotten and then gave a glance at the clock on the fireplace mantle. He'd reached a ripe middle age if he was giving himself some grace. Pookas lived long when given good health. What had started as a sort of hobby spiraled into his current role as healer of the colony. Not that he minded, it was good enough pay, not that he always took it, but he enjoyed helping others. He never had the heart to turn down someone who needed his help, whether it be an injury or an illness and before he knew it, he'd been helping fellow pooka for over twenty-five years. As of late, things had been peaceful. There weren't any illness outbreaks or sicknesses going around in the colony and it gave Aster some sense of achievement. However, with things being so quiet, it didn't leave the pooka with much left to do other than study over his medicines and stock up his small medical wing just off his study.

When he was busy, things were fine but when things were quiet, it was...lonely. His cottage built into the underground of the grassy hills was somewhat set apart from the rest of the colony. Aster liked his space, plus land for his vegetable and herb gardens, but sometimes at the end of the day, he often felt a longing for something more. He'd always been so focused on his work, whether it was his studies, medicine or gardening that some parts of life had slipped away without his realizing at the time. Still, he kept his nose to the grind and often buried himself in work to distract himself from the quietness of his home.

The clock on the mantle chimed and Aster paused, looking up over his glasses. It was nearly midnight. He sighed softly through his nose, setting down his quil and putting the jar lid on his bottle of ink. It was late, even for him and he knew he should get to bed. He sorted through the notes and papers scattered over his desk, trying to keep them organized when a sound from outside caught the attention of his left ear and it turned back in instinct at the sound. He didn't think much of it at first, the symphony of sounds of the storm outside enough to hide it for a few minutes as he cleaned up, but then he heard it again in the midst of the wind and the rain. This time he paused and turned his head, nose twitching slightly as both ears turned to listen. Was he hearing things now? It had sounded like...a cry?

There it was again, faint and quiet but definitely there. He strained to listen and stood, snatching the glasses off his nose and set them down before heading out of his study. Walking through the hallways of his home, he came to the front entrance and glanced through the small peephole. He only saw darkness and the occasional shimmer of a raindrop. Still, he unlatched the door and opened it with a creak, his ears falling back and gray fur bristling at the cold wind of the storm that blew in. He stood there, peering out into the chaos of the rain and wind, a slight rumbling overhead as a huge thundercloud lazily passed over, blocking the moon. It was dark so to try and see better down the path to his home, he snatched up a long match from the side of the doorway and lit the lantern by his front door. Perhaps someone needed his assistance, some mother doe with a runny-nosed kit or an elder pooka with some back aches. He thought it odd for them to be visiting at such an hour and in such a storm, but it could be an emergency too. However, as he lit the lantern and peered out, there was no one. There was only his front entrance, the path that lead down to the dirt road and to his gardens. He hesitated before moving to close the door when he heard the noise again. This time, it was clearer and louder and he knew instantly what it was.

He froze, ears perked and nose twitching. It was a kit's cry and a young one at the sound of it. He'd delivered enough kits to know what a newborn sounded like and before he could think of a reason for why he would hear a newborn's cry at a time like this, he was walking out into the storm in search of it. He kept his ears up even in the wind, taking his lantern with him as he ventured out into the rain. He didn't mind it, his mind was set on finding an explanation, on finding the kit he kept hearing.

"Hello?" He called, thinking perhaps there was a mother pooka in need of his help, but only the sound of the storm returned his call. He heart sank a little and an uneasy feeling curled in his stomach. He didn't want to think it or assume, but he knew someone could have very well abandoned their kit. There was a cry again, a high pitched, upset chirp of a newborn and he turned, hearing the sound come from the edge of his herb garden. He hurried forward, nose working full force and ears straining for the source when the kit cried out again and Aster finally spotted a wool blanket, bundled under his basil bush.

Setting the lantern down near the bundle for light, he pulled back part of the blanket, his stomach twisting in worry at the sight. A pooka kit squirmed in the blanket, fine baby fur clinging to its tiny body, soaked to the bone from the cold rain. It was white with pink skin, eyes sealed closed and small ears laying flat to his head. It couldn't have been older than a day or so. Aster stared a moment before lifting his head and looked around. There was no sign of a mother doe anywhere near, but a faint scent of her lingered in the air. Aster frowned as he tried to recognize it but couldn't. He turned his attention back to the kit, knowing he needed to focus on helping it first before he could think about it's mother. "S'okay little mate…" He muttered to it, leaning over it a bit to try and shield it from the rain as he gathered the little one up in his paw. Aster lifted it, cradling the crying kit to his chest to try and offer it some sort of warmth. With his other paw, he grabbed the lantern and stood, quickly making his way back inside.

Once in and out of the storm, he set the lantern down and shook out his head a little, rainwater droplets dripping from him as he quickly made his way to his small infirmary space for visiting patients. Setting the small white kit on a work table, he lit a few lights and grabbed a towel. He wrapped the squirming kit, the little one crying out loudly. The little thing had good lungs at least. "I know, s'okay…" He consoled it calmly, frowning slightly as he rubbed it down in an attempt to start drying it's fur, finding the kit to be a buck after a quick check beneath his tucked tail.

Aster was looking for more clues, examining the kit a moment then glanced around to check it's blanket. Perhaps there had been a note or some sort of clue as to who it's parents were but Aster quickly realized he'd left the woolen blanket out in the rain in his hurry. He sighed and grabbed a low basket with some spare towels. Dumping the towels out, he wrapped the kit up and tucked him safely into the basket, despite the little one's unhappy cries. "Jus' two tics lil' mate…" He murmured to it and turned, quickly heading back to the door. Heading outside into the rain again with the lantern, Aster kept his ears back against the cold weather as he hurried over the basil bush and reached down for the blanket. He pulled it up partially but stopped suddenly, eyes widening. Something was weighing it down. He knelt, quickly pulling it open further to find a second kit.

This one was chestnut with a pale cream underbelly and dark accents over it's paws and back. It was smaller than the white kit, a runt, Aster realized and worse, was very still and inanimate. Much less lively than it's brother had been when Aster found him. Aster carefully gathered the tiny kit up in his paw, frowning in concern as the kit barely twitched in reaction. It was so cold and soaked to the bone from the icy rain and it didn't make a single noise. Aster held it close and then thoroughly checked the blanket for any more kits, along with the area surrounding the bush, but found no others. With a small sigh, Aster grabbed the blanket and the lantern and while cradling the runt close to his chest, he turned and went back inside.

Tucked away safely in the warmth of his home once more, he carried the second kit to the infirmary space and settled it onto his work table, onto a clean, dry towel. The white kit's cries hadn't stopped, the little one still chirping insistently from the basket but Aster ignored him for the moment. The little chestnut kit in front of him wasn't fairing well and Aster knew he needed to work quickly. He examined the little kit carefully, finding it was a little buck as well. Aster looked over the little one's back left foot. It was angled oddly and was curled tightly and upon further inspection, he confirmed it was broken. Reaching over for some supplies to try and make a tiny splint, Aster gathered the runt up into his paw, able to cradle him entirely in his palm with his little head resting on his finger paw pads. He set to work grooming over the little one's body, rasping away water from the kit's coat with his tongue while offering warmth and stimulation to his chest area to encourage blood flow. Grooming over the kit's face carefully but firmly to try and pull a reaction from him, Aster set down supplies in his other paw to gently turn the kit to his side in his palm and rub his thumb firmly over the kit's back. The kit was still and his breathing wasn't strong, Aster knew the kit should be crying.

"C'mon lil' mate." He rumbled gently to it with a worried frown, nuzzling his nose against the kit's tiny cheek before licking firmly over the kit's chest. He knew it might've been a lost cause, runts typically didn't survive even in good conditions, but he wasn't ready to give up on the little ankle biter.

The kit's tiny body jerked suddenly in Aster's paw and it's pink mouth opened in a gasp. Aster sighed slightly in relief and kept rubbing it's back and grooming gently over it's chest. The little buck's paws flailed weakly at the sensation, blindly squirming against Aster's muzzle as it breathed and started to cry.

"Tha'sit…" He murmured encouragingly to the kit and pulled the basket with the white kit over, who was still crying. Pulling back the towel, Aster gently settled the chestnut kit next to his brother. The white kit calmed a little, nosing into his brother blindly and the two instinctively huddled together.

Aster then set to work, grooming both of them to get the lingering rainwater from their fur and then gave them a gentle rub down with the towel, drying them as well as helping to stimulate their lungs. Once they were dry and warm, they settled a bit and Aster was able to carefully set the chestnut kit's back left foot and fastened it with a little splint. Baby bones were tiny and delicate, but they also healed extremely well so he hoped that in time, the kit would heal.

Once Aster was satisfied that the kits were warm enough, he sighed and stepped back, moving to look through his supplies in the cabinets for formula. He knew he had some, for emergencies like this, but it wouldn't be enough to last them for very long. He had no idea how long he'd need to take care of them, he might find their mother or someone to take them, but he wanted to be prepared. He mulled over the idea of taking some chocolate as he mixed up the formula and carefully warmed it in his kitchen over a low heat.

Pookas were shapeshifters and different recipes of chocolate could affect the ways that they shifted. Most of the chocolates that Aster made and kept on hand were ones that allowed him to grow an extra pair of limbs - an extremely helpful thing to be able to do in his line of work. But he knew there was a recipe to allow a pooka buck's anatomy to change slightly, enough to produce milk. It wasn't uncommon at all, pooka litters were often large and overwhelming for one doe to keep up with, many times the fathers would help nurse the kits as well. Aster had never had to do it himself, but he looked for the recipe and set aside some ingredients for it as he waited for the formula to reach the right temperature. He'd make it later, depending on how long he'd have to care for the kits until someone could take them off his hands.

Once he'd tested the formula to make sure it was at the right temperature, he headed back to the infirmary room with two bottles, a rubber nipple sealed over the top of each. He tucking one bottle into his arm and holding the other with a paw, he carefully plucked up the basket the kits were in and headed to his bedroom. It was late and he was tired, and glancing at the kits in the basket, he was sure they were as well. Still, they needed to eat. He sighed as he settled into his bed, a nest of pillows, sheets, and warm quilts. He set the bottles aside and arranged a small area for the kits, shaping a warm blanket into a makeshift nest for them before gently transferring them there from the basket.

"There now," He hummed, the two kits squirming a bit. The white buck was the stronger of the two and the more curious at the moment, nosing around blindly in the soft bedding and gave little chirps. The chestnut kit was still, but his breathing was better than it had been before and he wasn't so lifeless. Aster took one bottle and tugged at the rubber nipple slightly with his teeth before propping it up against the blankets and guiding the white kit to it. He bumped his nose against the rubber nipple, chirping a little in confusion but with Aster's help and guidance, the kit quickly latched on and suckled eagerly. He gulped down the warm formula, tiny pink paws kneading at the blanket he lay over, with small, content noises coming from his throat. Aster watched him a moment, making sure he settled into it and once it seemed he had, Aster turned his attention to the chestnut kit.

He knew this one would need a bit more help, so he picked the kit up and gathered him close to his warm chest. Teasing the bottle's nipple to the kit's mouth, Aster rumbled a little to try and get the kit to accept it. The kit bumped noses with it but otherwise seemed uninterested, too tired to care much for it. Aster frowned and groomed a little over the kit's head to try and get him to become a little more alert. "C'mon, gotta eat somethin' lil' mate…" He murmured, gently coaxing the kit's mouth open and the nipple inside. The kit squirmed slightly, gumming at the rubber teat and seemed surprised when he was greeted with warm formula. He turned his head away with a gargled chirp, weakly squirming. Aster frowned a little but rubbed his thumb gently over the kit's head, trying to guide him back to the bottle.

"Try 'gain mate," He hummed patiently, encouraging the kit to take the nipple into his mouth again. The kit did, squirming a bit as he did so, but gnawed at the teat a bit and gulped down some of the formula. Aster relaxed a little, ducking down his head to lick slowly over the kit's nose and eyes to his flattened ears, a way of praising the kit for taking the formula and encouraging him to continue to eat. "There...things look a mite better with some food in ya stomach, yeah?" He hummed quietly, stifling a yawn.

Aster watched the two nurse, making sure they ate their full. He knew they'd have to nurse every few hours. He was certain they were only about a day old if that. He didn't know who their dam was, or if they'd been left intentionally. He assumed they had been, it would make sense that someone, perhaps a doe who's young and scared, would choose to leave them at the home of a healer...but why not walk them to the door at least? Aster sighed softly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. It was long past midnight now. He could feel his eyelids drooping. He knew he'd need to ask around and find someone to take them, a young couple with a litter of their own perhaps, preferably someone who could nurse them naturally without formula. Formula was fine, but it lacked the bonding experience young kits craved and of which many needed to thrive.

A small chirp from the white kit drew Aster's attention away and interrupted his thoughts. The white kit pulled away from the bottle sleepily, movements sluggish. He'd downed nearly the full bottle and that put Aster at ease. He was glad the white kit was a strong nurser at least. One less thing to worry about. He eased down carefully onto his side, curling around the two kits without interrupting the chestnut kit as he continued to nurse from his bottle. With his free paw, he pulled the white kit closer to him and the kit held into his fur, nosing into the warmth the older pooka offered. Aster stayed awake to make sure the chestnut kit finished nursing. He was certainly slower than his brother, taking his time to eat his fill, but he was eating at least, Aster didn't mind how long it took him.

Finally, the little chestnut kit had dozed off, having gulped down about half of his bottle's contents. It wasn't exactly what Aster had hoped, but he had hope in the little tyke eating more in a couple hours. For now, he let the kit rest and set the bottle aside. Aster gathered the runt close to his brother, cradling the kits to his chest and keeping them warm. He lowered his head, tiredly grooming over them once more, smoothing down their coats with gentle, affectionate strokes of his tongue. He then sighed tiredly, content that the two were sleeping. He rested his head on his pillow and watched them a little while, wondering what he would do with them. He watched them until his eyes slipped closed and he drifted off to sleep. He was glad at least he'd been able to find them, both of them and give them a shot at least of survival. He hoped to discover who they were, why they'd been abandoned, where and who their mother was. He could figure out arrangements for them later...but for now, they were safe and that was the most important thing.

With Aster asleep and the storm overhead finally calming, the two kits kept closely huddled together, little bellies round and full, the kits warmly cuddled against Aster. Amidst the tangle of little limbs, tiny paws of both white and chestnut clung to Aster's fur and held on through the night.