In the deep darkness of the burrow a new mother nuzzled her only surviving young. A little male pup suckled, strong and healthy. It had been a difficult birth; the pup’s two weaker littermates hadn’t survived for more than a heartbeat after coming into the world. Their scent still lingered on the pup’s hairless pink skin (at least she assumed it was pink, she’d never seen a newborn outside the burrow before and could only imagine), and she drank them in, the sharp sting of grief puncturing her chest all over again. She’d lost so much.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes raising to stare at the dark ceiling. Despite the pain of saying goodbye to pups she would never get to know in life she was grateful that The Before Us hadn’t claimed all her litter. Her ancestors had at least left her with one and it seemed that he would survive, at least for now. The mother’s gaze floated to the side of the chamber where her lost pups had laid before one of her family members had carried them out for burial. “May Star guide you.”

“May Star guide you.” A sharp voice echoed. Panic bubbled in the back of the mother’s throat. As her snout jerked to face the chamber entrance her tail curled over her surviving pup. The pup felt her tense and renewed his suckling with vigor. “Greetings, Click,” said a familiar meer as she entered the chamber.

The mother swallowed back her fear, forcing her pelt to lie flat. Click squinted into the blackness imaging the cutting angles of the dominant female’s face and her perpetual, rebuking expression. What was she doing in Click’s birth chamber? She wouldn’t evict me now, would she? She couldn’t, not when Click’s pup was so young. Who would care for him? Then a new thought snaked into her mind and made her blood go cold.

Was the dominant female there to kill her pup?

Click had heard rumors that some dominants, the leading mated pairs of a meerkat family, would kill the pups of a rival group. Did they consider her and her pup enemies? She was a subordinate female, after all, and therefor wasn’t supposed to take a mate.

“G-Greetings, Marsh,” Click at last managed to stammer. The pup rankled his snout at his mother’s mounting fear scent and pushed at the protective barrier of her tail with tiny paws. The stagnant air stirred as Marsh stepped closer. Click curled her claws into the hard-packed sand, preparing to spring at the dominant female if she showed any signs of aggression.

“Relax,” Marsh soothed, her rich, milky fragrance filling the chamber. The pup paused in his suckling, nose twitching, as if he couldn’t figure out why there was suddenly two sources of food in the cramped space. His ears and eyes were sealed shut, leaving him deaf and blind for the next turn at least. “I’m only here to welcome the newest edition to The Powers.”

“Oh,” Click breathed, relaxing a fraction, but her gaze remained watchful as Marsh leaned over the pup. She sniffed and Click flinched, her tail curling tighter around him.

“He’s suckling strongly,” Marsh complimented.

Click nodded, then remembered that Marsh couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

“And he’s a good size for a newborn.”

“Hmm,” Click hummed agreement, though she wasn’t sure why Marsh was paying them a visit and couldn’t shake her earlier suspicions.

Marsh nudged the pup with her nose, and he uttered a noise of protest before greedily suckling again. “I’m sorry for the others. I lost a pup during my birthing as well.”

“Thank you.” The reply came out ragged and Click coughed to clear her throat. It wasn’t unusual to lose pups at birth or soon after, in fact most meerkat pups wouldn’t live to see the light of day. The desert was not an easy place to survive. Sand sprinkled from the ceiling onto Click’s pelt as if to remind her of that fact and the two meer fell silent. Click crossed her forepaws, stretching her claws and shutting her jaws with a click.

“What will you call him? Have you chosen a name yet?”

Click’s head, which had begun to droop, snapped up. “Wh-what?”

“A name, Click.” Marsh whisked her tail, Click heard it brush the far wall. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Marsh.” Click lowered her voice and inclined her head to the dominant female. “You know it's bad luck to name a pup before they’ve left the burrow, it’s against tradition.”

She could feel Marsh’s impatient gaze boring into her, could imagine her leader’s icy green eyes pinning her to the spot. “Oh, it won’t hurt anything,” Marsh snapped. “We only started that tradition so that it wouldn’t be as painful when a pup was lost before it could see the sun for the first time. It isn’t necessary in this case.”

Click’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Your son will survive puphood, Click,” Marsh huffed. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Why?” Click tucked her now sleeping pup into the dark fur of her belly. “How can you be sure?” Then her voice dropped an octave with awe. “Have The Before Us given you a sign?”

“No,” Marsh barked as she stood and turned a restless circle so that she was facing the exit. She shook out her pelt and her paws scuffed the earth. “Just tell me what you will call him!”

“Marsh-” Click’s whiskers juddered.

“Click.” The dominant female warned.

“Clay.” Click admitted in a whisper, her gaze round with admiration as her pup’s warm breath heated her skin. “I want to call him Clay.”

Marsh hesitated, then gave a definitive growl. “Clay. That will work nicely.” She squared her gaze on Click and Click wondered if Marsh could actually see her for a chilling moment. “I’ll let you stay, Click. I’ll let you raise your pup here.”

Click’s ruff bristled with surprise. “Why? I’m a… Truthbreaker.” She hung her head. She knew she’d broken the Third Truth, Family Is Survival, by having pups of her own. Now Marsh’s leadership could be questioned, not that Click had ever wanted to lead. What would that kind of upheaval do to the family? While she didn’t regret- could never regret- having her son she did realize now that she had been selfish. Maybe she deserved to be evicted…

“No,” Marsh said, tone gentle. “You aren’t a Truthbreaker, Click.” Her intense gaze flickered to the pup. “You’ve done your family a great service.”

“I-I have?” Click frowned, wondering if her mounting exhaustion was causing hallucinations. Unless one couldn’t have hallucinations when their sight couldn’t penetrate the darkness…?

“Yes.” She heard the smile in Marsh’s voice and her fur spiked. Relief washed her pelt as the dominant female stepped towards the chamber mouth. Click’s head dropped onto her paws and her eyes began to close. Her pup’s sweet aroma warmed her to her core, and she allowed the smooth rhythm of his breaths to lull her to sleep.

Marsh paused just outside the chamber and glanced over her shoulder. The sound of her voice permeated Click’s comfortable bubble of slumber. “Your son will be the next dominant male of the Powers.”

By the time Click managed to rouse herself, blinking and lifting her chin, Marsh was gone.