The young bear knew very little.
 
Life had granted him a miracle, and though it was subtle and soft in its gifting, Sos had accepted and continued to thrive under the care of his dutiful mother. His stomach was full as often as he needed it, and the heat from her body was enough to warm even the coldest of nights. Though he was young, there was still a mind growing within him, and it spoke of great things – astounding journeys – and the change that adulthood would inspire within him. Should he survive his long months as a puppy, Sos would grow to be a massive brute of force and a savage young man. He was a bear, after all. He could only be destined for great things.
 
On the day after his birth, Sos was nestled tightly against his mother’s gently rising midsection. Scent was all he knew against the darkness of his youthful blind eyes. Still, the aroma of her and of his siblings was enough to know he was secure in his home. Not sleeping, but still not fully awake, the young cub parted his lips in a great yawn that seemed to stretch his features out and ended in a soft yipping noise. He tucked himself in closer to her frame and breathed heavily.

There was a sensation, like a thrilling chill that stretched down his back and to the tip of his tail, that caused the young boy to shudder and squeak in delight. It was the touch of his mother’s nose against the back of him, and her inhale brought him such astounding joy and comfort that he lifted a wobbly head upward to gaze at her with closed eyes and a rapidly searching nose. Sos rolled his little body to the side and stretched out a single paw. Though his movements were shaky and lacking strength of a more grown figure, he wished for Shivali to know that he knew she was there – instinctually – and he was comforted by her presence, and her strength. The bear knew nothing more than her scent and the aroma of his sister and brother, who ate an awful lot and slept just as much as he.
 
Sos was partially concealed in the warm tufts of ivory fur that coated his mother’s belly. He had burrowed as tightly against her as he could to stay warm – something he desired greatly – and had found the perfect niche where he fit against the natural curve of her frame. Though he would have had to wiggle a few inches to reach the milk of her teat, Sos did not mind. The travel was worth the destination, and his present nest was far more important to him than being right beside his mother’s milk. Feeling a wave of tired energy cross through his young bones, Sos yawned wide again and squeaked softly as he closed his lips.
 
All of his noises went unheard against his own ears. The peeps and yaps that his siblings made were also silent. The whole world seemed to be so. The child knew only darkness and quiet, but he found that this was enough to bolster some strength in him. Sos would change, as would his life, the more he grew, but he was pleasantly happy with the goings on in the family den, and the level of comfort that was felt was ideal for one so very young and unaware.

Far too young to know the tongue that was used to reprimand his uncle, Sos could only feel the change in the air that surrounded his mother. It was almost as though he had stepped into something that he ought not to have found. The young bear felt a strange sensation wash over him and he was overcome by emotion that he had no means to place. It was fearful and the scorn that was issued from Shivali was enough that the young boy felt as though he had stepped out of his own place. Shuddering against the feel in the air, Sos breathed deeply and began to squeak in distress. He did not want his mother to feel the way she was feeling. He did not want to know that the muttering had been intended for the uncle who was overstepping his protective boundaries.
 
Nuzzling closer to his pale mother’s frame, Sos breathed in her scent and hoped to erase the feeling of tension in the air. At such a young age, he had no means to speak on such feelings. As he aged, the bear would be very empathetic; he would know the feelings that others felt far before they were uttered to him. Still, he would hold a stoic nature about him. It would be an early adaptation for the boy to hold his hand close to his chest and not allow others to know what he was experiencing. Youth was the time for molding, and though it was a small interaction, the quick snap of his mother’s tongue was enough to leave a lasting mark on his mind. However small, it still held fast.

The tension left the air and the boy was touched by his mother. Feeling the familiarity of her, the young bear made an attempt to get himself closer to her frame and further away from the emotions that had fluttered through the room just moments before. The child would not know what had occurred to cause the reaction from Shivali; even as an adult, Sos would never endure the hardship of carrying his own young and giving birth to them. All that was known was that Shivali was the most important figure to him, and he would not find pleasure in anything that did not promote that. When she soothed away the ruffled feathers of the polar pup, the woman made herself more comfortable and then wrapped her head around the young boy. Sos made himself a comfortable place to nestle there and closed his eyes. The softest of sighs escaped from his young mouth just moments before he seemed to drift away to a land of dreams.