Redhawk Caldera the rocky road to dublin

Late to the party!

the third born — and one of two boys of the litter — did what he did best during his second day of life: he slept. 

and he slept in a manner that only puppies can assume; entirely, wholly, completely consumed by the act. His body would remain in repose for hours upon hours, little chest rising and falling in time with the shallow puff puff puff of his breath. His mind would not dream, his body would not twitch, his mouth would not emit no sounds.  The world outside his mind hadn’t been too entertaining anyways since he was both blind and deaf and, for all intents and purposes, mute. His mewling was without meaning, but somehow his parents seemed to understand that he either wanted to be fed or cleaned or wanted their endless cosseting to end. Those were Lucca's only wants in life.

So the small blackthorn remained inert, consumed by unconsciousness.