When times come and go

His sister would leave first, the once spacious warmth closing around them and shifting their forms. The little brute was squirming, little face twisted with disapproval for this change of events. The dark warmth that carried them had been perfect. He had nothing to do except to sleep in a dreamless state and to grow. But the whelp had no knowledge yet that he and his sibling had grown too big for the space that they occupied. Even if some wolves could bear even five pups at once there came a time that even a lesser number had to leave the safety of the womb.

The male was squirming more and more as his world moved. The gentle thudding of his mother?s heartbeat felt like an earthquake to the boy now as everything shifted around him, mouth trying to open to scream and wail in protest. But the birth sac alone prevented such an action, even as he finally slid out into the world.

He would be the last of the first litter between Birch and ?owyn, granting them a single son and daughter. As he was cleaned the little male would wriggle around, squeaks of protest leaving his mouth. Whatever he was laying on it was colder and harder than what he was used to.

He didn?t like it.

Strange rumbles were heard... Well, more-so felt. He was blind. Deaf. Helpless. The one he would come to know as his father would give a nudge of his own as his mother guided him to her belly. His body would brush against the fur of his sister as a warm scent completely filled his nose. Instinct drove him to latch on to his mother with a non-too gentle puppy grip as he started to greedily suckle down the warm liquid of life, paying little attention to the fact that a good deal of it was also falling down around his jaw and onto his chest.