His surveys of the nearby checked out, so with patrols wrapped well enough for the time being, the pale-coated wocha went circling back towards the densite to see how things were there--and if Portia needed anything as he paused before their doorstep. At her beck and call, matching over a healthy vigilance, he had no shortage of things to do but he would be damned if he didn't take the time to just be with them sometimes.
He greeted his mate fondly then ducked his head down and slid carefully across the threshold of the den, blocking the light just long enough to bring himself in and adjust. His eyes were quick upon the pups, and today, right now, it was the grayscale son that drew his focus first. Dio settled in next to him by curving himself around the boy in a wide crescent, but left him a little space to see what he would do with it--just because he was curious. Definitely not out of reach, though.
They were still so small, so fragile and hard to define as much more than just that.. but each time he did watch the young of the pack grow, he would always be impressed by how swiftly they took shape and became so much more than that alone.
Dacio willed the sun away, furrowing his brow in attempt to dim its rays without the knowledge of being able to avoid it simply by turning his head away. He twitched the very twitch of his stubby little tail in annoyance, before he squeaked in objection; the present adult in the den ought to read his mind as she often did, and block out the brightness.
It was not Portia to aid him, however. Instead, a blurred hero of golden hue stepped through the entrance to their family hollow and, able to pair his scent to that of his other parent figure, Dacio mewled softly to himself in delight. His stormy eyes blinked up at his father who came to hover over his tiny body, for whom he mustered a happy "arrrrf."
Having newborns around again definitely took some getting used to. He was obnoxiously careful about them at first but they were too small to not. But, he was definitely happy to see the boy looking pretty happy about him too. They just seemed as content as he could suppose deaf, mostly-blind little fuzzies should be at this point and in truth, it was a welcome relief. He found the more time he spent with them and seeing them grow steadily already, the less he worried about them.
He reached his muzzle closer and swiped a few gentle licks over Dacio's forehead. "Hey you," he rumbled warmly back at him, though knew he couldn't hear it in the traditional sense. Maybe the thought--the motion itself--could stand for something instead.
woops!! D:
He drew back gently, swiping his own tongue over his lips and peering down at the sterling boy with admiration Very much so, he was eager to know them--and while the duo of girls were certainly no less so, the single son carried on his shoulders a different sort of what if. After the outcome of his last son, the wocha struggled to not have that in the very back of his mind.. at least somewhere.
But that would not be the case this time. He would see to it, and never again. For now, however, he reached a forelimb towards Dacio, and moved to scoop him with it--as delicately as he absolutely could. With a little finesse, he hoped to bring him closer to his chest.
Blissfully unaware of his father's grim thoughts, Dacio simply beamed up at his bright features with the largest of smiles. Their eyes met, and the youngster strained his little neck to better see the vibrant colours of each iris: both vibrant, but vastly different. In that moment he was simply a happy child, aware of the world and desperate to see more of it, entirely lost to the worries of his parents that he - as the only son - may fail their expectations just as their first had.
The adult lifted a forelimb to sweep over the cub's tiny frame, and gently scooped him up in the crook of an elbow to pull him close. Dacio, babbling contently at this new proximity, was content to bury his blunt snout among the ivory tresses of the Wocha's chest to enjoy the fussing he was sure to receive.
While he had resolved to make sure this time would be different, that the outcomes would not align, he already wondered if that wouldn't be the case without him setting his mind to it. When the sterling pup settled in comfortably close to him, unperturbed and seemingly in good spirits, he was relieved; this go around with newborns underfoot, he at least had a better sense of what he was doing. A greater confidence, more self-assured. It was never entirely easy for him to fathom the lives he ought to guide here as little soft dollops of wolf.. and physically, he simply didn't have quite the same finesse with them as Portia did.. but it was better and all around easier this time, this year.
Quietly he traced his nose, warm breaths and all, over the back of the boy's head, then around to his chest--whatever he could reach, all of him, it scarcely mattered before he smoothed down a few spots of fur he had ruffled up, and groomed any spots that needed such. Happy with his work for now, he pressed him into his own plush fur and lowered his head around him. So long as Dacio seemed happy with it, or his mother saw fit to collect him, he would keep him that way, safe and sound.