Morningside Cuesta how long have I been your fool?

Day gave a throaty chuckle. "I don't mind singin' to you," he said, lifting himself away from his mate's belly and settling again at her side. The male gave her cheek a firm lick before laying his head on his paws, eyes fluttering shut, since there wasn't much for him to see, anyway.

"My dad used to sing to us," he revealed, a sad smile flickering across his face. "My mama used to holler at him - said he sang like a dying crow. But she loved it. We all did." 

Those had been simpler times. Sometimes, Day wondered if he'd ever achieve the kind of domestic bliss he'd enjoyed with his mother and father. Was it possible that such things were passed him, unreachable beyond childhood? Perhaps his parents had experienced the same troubles as he, and had simply hidden them from his young eyes. He wished he could've done the same for Dawn, so that she would be able to look back when she was grown, and remember what it was like to be loved by a perfect father.