Wolf RPG - bestimmung

waxwing had gone away to be with his family, tierra had become scarce, and wylla had not recovered from the birth, but become harshly ill. mahler spent his days and nights at her beside, feeding her chewed meat and herbs to strengthen her blood.
perhaps they had been too old to become parents again; perhaps he should not have allowed his desire to cloud that fact. and yet little @Ilse was no touch of regrettable, mahler often holding their small daughter in the cradle of one arm as he doted upon wylla.
twilight fell slowly that warm night, and he sat upon the threshold, watching the stars wink into view, trying not to feel so very many things at one time.

Wylla was still worn from the efforts of birth, but Ilse grew stronger with each passing day. She was nearly one month old now. Her eyes were open, her ears had begun to raise, and her milk teeth had come in.

The latter was a relief. At first, Ilse didn't understand that her mother was ill. This Wylla was the only Wylla she knew, and she had difficulty grasping why her mother could not muster up the same energy that her father could. Eventually, on some intuitive level she understood that drawing milk stole from her mother's reserves. She came to associate Mahler with food and eagerly ate any meat he was inclined to provide. She would likely wean early.

With both of her parents a constant presence, Ilse was quiet and well-mannered. She had no mischevious bone in her body, and did not like to test her parents. She had never experienced their admonishment and even the abstract thought of it broke her heart.

She approached her father but didn't pass him, settling instead near his hocks until she was invited further.

soon mahler turned, and little ilse was well-received up into the crook of her papa's arm. already her father considered fall, then winter; his thoughts turned darkly sober toward his wife's prolonged illness, and he could hope only that she recovered before the snows brought their own maladies.
"hallo, liebling," the man murmured, holding her close and easily.
"bevor sie es wissen, werden sie nach draußen gehen." there were adventures to be had, after all.

pup development document says vocalizations start at this time, trying not to get too ahead of myself here

Mahler's voice was different than mama's; not just deeper, but there was something else about it, too. She was too young to place it. Aaa-ooooohhhh, she mimicked, leaning into the security of his arms, wee-wee-wee-weeb. Ilse pawed towards his face to try and grab more words from his lips.

an expression of pride warmed the craggy countenance of her loving papa. "sehr gut, ilse," the patriarch praised, and put out his great paw to her tiny one in triumphant gesture.
"der mond." mahler raised his arm to the blooming circlet of cream rising into the sky. "die sterne," to the glowing sparkles scattered thereabouts.