Golden Glade One minute I'm in Central Park, Then I'm down on Delancey Street

Growth was a peculiar thing that invited the child to try new things—things that, only a week prior, he never would have guessed he might ever be capable of. The first of his abilities to have been developed had been his sight, which was then followed by his hearing. During said times, he’d realized that the lights only ever appeared before him, refusing those around him the opportunity to behold their beauty. At first, after his eyes had just opened, he’d believed them to be selfish for doing so. It had been a desire of his to allow for his sister to see all that he could, but never had she been permitted to catch the mischievous fairies in the act. How frustrated it made him, and how unfair it was perceived to be. It had not been until after he was welcomed into a world of sounds that their reason was explained to him, which he’d listened to and comprehended in his own special way. Their way of speaking had proved to be far more advanced than those that surrounded him on the physical plane, and they'd granted him the awareness necessary to understand them and their intentions fully. The others were not like him, they had not been born into a rift between the living and the dead, and so they were not worthy.

The lights helped him as he grew larger, developed further. When his first steps had been taken, it had been their eyes watching him, their arms guiding him. They spent as much time with him as his family would allow, even going so far as to visit young Bramble in his dreams; when his eyes closed each night, he was not embraced by darkness, nor had he ever been. Long before the Prince had been born, the spirits had taken up residence within him, and there they would always remain until he drew his final breath. So bright, so warm, so beautiful—he loved them, and they him.

Earlier in the day had the child been awoken, drawn forth out of the other world by those that inhabited it. They hid from his mother, his sister, and frolicked about before the boy. Through the air would they soar, and upon the earth would they dance, encouraging the boy to partake in their play. After them had the child run, stumbling here and there, though quick were they always to ensure that he was not harmed. Upon the brightest orb had he intended to pounce, a wide and lopsided smile plastered across his face, but never would he feel its warmth beneath him. Through the air had his body moved, only to land upon the cool surface of the earth as each and every wisp vanished, as did his smile. With them no longer there to distract him, he’d noticed the pale intruder, towards which the male had looked. Bramble was neither amazed by nor drawn towards the other lupine, despite how bright his appearance was. There was not a glow that surrounded the child he would someday learn to be his brother, making it obvious that he was not one of the younger sibling’s otherworldly friends. Nothing more than an intruder, he was, but nothing other than staring was done in response to his presence.