ever since he had gotten back, he was keen to see the puppies. when he'd left, they'd just been born, tiny blind things that more resembled rodents than wolves. with a moon past, they should be more grown, and--if catori would allow it--he wanted to get to know his newest in laws.

just to seal the deal, he brought a long, thin bone and a feather from a turkey--something fun, something shiny.

he set these objects down outside the whelping den and dropped to his belly, keeping his posture low and submissive. "hey, cat," he called gently, assuming the new mother was in with the children. "wanted to drop by. can i say hello?" a smile bloomed over his face as he caught the smell of puppies, and he wagged his tail, eager to meet them already.

it didn't take long before a young girl emerged from the den, making a beeline toward him but soon distracted by the feather, which she promptly started chewing. aditya smiled, but before he could say anything, a male pup burst onto the scene, careening into his chest and wiggling with excitement. hihihi! aditya grinned benevolently down.

"hello, bachcha," adi crooned, dipping his muzzle to cuddle the boy into his embrace. he whuffed quietly to the girl, urging her to come forward as well. "you found the feather. it's from a bird--those things that fly above us."

he nudged the boy, running his tongue along his small, silken ears and forehead. "what's your name?" he asked, wondering how many words the children had as of yet. there was a third, he knew, but it clearly hadn't emerged from the den yet, and neither had catori. he hoped this was okay. grayday and cat should know him well enough by now to understand he was no threat.

he laughed as the girl abandoned the feather, choosing to bring the bone over instead. he got a name from the boy--well, two--and settled on the easier of the two, figuring that would be easier to remember. he was a sharp kid; he threw the same question right back at aditya, and his ears perked up to hear it. "my name is aditya," he said, "but lots of people call me 'adi.'"

then another question, about the feather's origins, and he nodded sagely down at river, nose running gently over the edge of the feather. "haan, bachcha, a bird. the feather must have fallen off. sometimes we lose our hair," adi added, preening at his shoulder in illustration. a few hairs, part of the pathetic excuse for a winter pelt he'd grown, fluttered to the ground. "see?"