Sawtooth Spire Why So Serious

His mother moved and this woke the third born, who had become so interested in the world and those within it that he could no longer sleep through the stirrings of others as he had when he was younger. His head lifted from the floor where it laid, ears perked with interest atop his russet crown. He saw his mother was making for the den entrance, and as he was becoming more and more anxious to depart his dark and protected home, he eagerly bolted after her. His chase was one of quiet, sure-footed grace, not the clumsy stumbling that some pups might possess when hastily pursuing their parent.

He did not pause where light met shadow, he followed his mother out and was delighted that she did not push him back in as she had before. No barricading, no growling. His tail started first: swishing side to side, and then his entire body started to quiver with the excitement. He threw himself into a play bow, his rump wiggling, and he woofed as his blue eyes settled on Tonravik. Then he was off. He frolicked around her happily, barking with the joy of this new experience. This lasted only a moment. His demeanor shifted; his nose dropped to the ground and he sniffed loudly among the grass.

His frolic tamed to a slow walk as he followed one scent, and then turned onto a different trail as he found another. All within the immediate proximity of his mother.