Bearclaw Valley a dove is a glove that i wear on my heart

AW to whoever wants to play but tagging @Ridge specifically!

Honestly, life as a baby was quite droll. There wasn't much to it. Eat, sleep, shit. This was exacerbated further in the early days by virtue of the fact that he was blind, deaf, and without language. All he knew was that there was a very warm tummy always nearby full of food, and some squirming bundles he'd eventually have to call his sisters, and that was that.

Things changed when his eyes finally opened, milky blue and guileless. Shapes began to take form--the lanky body of his mother, the creamy tones of his sisters. . .and his own snowy pelt, starkly white against the darkness of the den. The den itself was, well, not much to look at. . .

. . .but there was a light at the end of the tunnel! Literally!

One day, wee Marten detached himself from his mama's teat and began to wiggle-crawl toward the light, squinting as he drew nearer and nearer to something brighter than he'd ever seen. His vision was still bad enough that the outside world was a muddle of brown and gray, with a little bit of green. And he shivered--it was cold!

Curiosity warred with comfort inside his growing mind as he weighed the pros and cons of sitting on his front door, essentially, versus going back and snuggling with Mommy. He eventually decided the former, awkwardly hunched, an almost cynical look screwing up his young face--he really was just cold--as he got his first look at what was to be his home.