The moon, high in the sky and scattering light in silver rivulets across Polar Sound, guided Aresenn's steps as he trudged through the valley. He lifted his nose, whiskers twitching at the scent of rain-soaked grass and the tang of seaweed carried on the brisk ocean breeze. As he approached the narrow canyon, he stopped to glance at the sheer rock faces that towered around him. His orange eyes gleamed eerily in the moonlight as they roamed over the slate surfaces, taking in the multitude of small waterfalls that trickled down from their heights. The sound of rushing water filled his ears.

It didn’t take long for him to make it back to the den. Muffled snuffles emanated faintly as he approached, the familiar scent of Absinth and their offspring wafting comfortingly to his nostrils. The cave was a haven, a bubble of warmth amidst the stark chill of the taiga that held them all close within its rocky embrace.

He moved with utmost caution, each footfall a ghostly whisper against the stone floor. Echoes of his family's slumbering breaths cushioned the silence, their rhythmic patterns a lullaby that tugged at his own drowsiness. Aresenn wanted nothing more than to collapse in the comfortable pile of furs that made up their sleeping area, but his ever-present drive pushed him toward his duty. His gaze fell upon the sleeping figures; Absinth, her sleek coat shimmering with an ethereal glow, and their sons and daughters, innocent and unaware of the world's harshness - a sight that softened the edges of his hardened heart. He could have stood there watching them sleep all night.

"Aresenn Praetor"

It was hard to say what might have awoken him in the dark, drawn him from the tender embrace of slumber amidst the soft heap of bodies within the den. Nonetheless, the raven furred boy found his eyes fluttering open, pupils wide to drink in the meagre light of the midnight hours, to seek out the source of his wakefulness. And there, a looming figure. Titanic in proportion, towering over he and his siblings in dead silence and eerie stillness. He stared for a moment, his little heart racing in his chest with a sharp staccato rhythm. Then the breeze from the mouth of the den shifted, brought a familiar musk to his young nares. "Da.." he grumbled sleepily, extricating himself from the pile of youthful bodies so that he could plod over to his father. To lean his meagre bulk against the sturdy pillar of a warm foreleg, rest his cheek against the familiar, safe bulwark of his father's form. "Why.. you not sleeping?" words were a tricky thing, with a mind still fuzzy from sleep, addled by dreams. He sighed softly, rubbing his eye with one slender wrist before he could crane his neck to gaze up at his sire. For a few moments, he was quiet, staring up at the man with big baleful eyes that seemed a bit too old for his pudgy, youthful features. Then, that ever-present infantile greed struck. He wanted his father's time, his attention. He wanted it now. "Can you tell me a story? About before I was born?" curiosity bade him ask the question, and youth absolved him of shame that might arise from his desire to know all there was to know. "speech"