Little Trouble Makers (birthing thread)

The world was a rather odd place. It was unforgiving, moving him by it's own will and desires. He was shifted, moved, and pushed from the place he felt warm and safe. Cold air would grasp him as he was cleaned, mewls of protest leaving his maw. He was a newborn. He was blind and deaf, but smell and touch were among his senses. They would lead the newborn pup to his mother's side, to warmth, to life giving nourishment, and the silver boy would drink. He would drink and drink, getting warm, getting full, until there was nothing left to do but sleep.

He was ignorant of the family in the den. Of his mother and father who were there. Of the name they gave him. Naoise. It didn't matter right now. The boy would curl next to his mother, drifting off in this new, unforgiving world. He would learn of the harsh ways... and the boy would learn early on of jealousy and bitterness. No... for now... he was innocent. All shades of bad and evil were born innocent, after all.