Qeya River the moon pleaded: stay

the morning was overcast, but that did not perturb attuaserk as it, perhaps, should have. with his eyes open and his ears open and the wonderful sights and sounds of the world followed in the wake of sharpening sense of smell: he is no longer captivated by the small earthen world that consisted of his mother, malrok and father.

the light that comes from the entrance of the birthing den burns like a beacon on the shore; a siren's call tempting him to clumsily make his way to it to see and hear and smell all he could.

if there was hesitation the very first time he approached the light of day upon the den floor; shrinking back into the safety of his mother's and brother's side ... it is gone by now.

the bravado is back in full force; border-lining a recklessness borne of pure childish innocence as he lingers at the mouth of the den. his side is pressed against the wall, head poking out the yawning mouth at the grand and endless world beyond, trying to make sense of what he sees whilst clinging to the safety of the only home he has currently ever known in his short span of life.

There was comfort in their growth, just as much as their was worry.

The easiness of confining them to the den was replaced by them moving on limbs now, oversized paws surely eager to see more land. Attuaserk was proof of that, as she watched him ebb and flow at the den's mouth.

She wondered if they wished to see more. Perhaps if she...gave them adventure, they would not be so quick to flee. She would uncurl herself from @Malrok as she slipped from the den, a soft wave of her tail as she turned to look over her shoulder at her sons.

Come, She offered in a tone that promised excitement. This whole place is your home.

the footfalls of sakhmet draw his ears back with a soft twitch and he peers over his shoulder at her, tail wagging. his ears flutter back and he hops up to lick at her chin; excitment and hesitation battling it out and blooming within his chest at her encouragement to step outside the safety of the birth den.

his first step is hesitant, but his confidence quickly grows as he trots along outside, pausing to check out the nearest wildflower budding. he chomps down on it and spits it out quickly before moving onto the next thing; easily distracted in his eagerness to explore and take in everything he can.

She watched him with a rich fondness.

Even as he attempted to devour a wildflower. She remembered all of the dangerous places she had been barred from in her birth land.

This is different, she thinks. This is safer. Picked out for its ability to maintain a family. Even if it is small family that claimed the riverside.

We will go as far as you can make it, She tells him. Prepared for Malrok to follow after them as well. It will be a good experience for them. It would also wear them out, she hopes.

attauserk tromps along after sakhmet, different things briefly catching his attention. at least, before he realizes his mother is getting ahead of him. each and every time this happens he gallops in her wake to catch up, wanting to communicate that he felt he could 'make it' forever.

that was not the case, naturally.

but his excitement shows no signs of slowing down ( at least not presently ) as he bats at a butterfly. it falls to the earth and with a soft frown he yips at it and attempts to nudge it up with his paw only to squish it in the process.

a small noise leaves him; though whatever distress he might've felt at killing his toy is short lived as the next thing catches his attention.

A butterfly.

Squashed beneath a puppy's paw and Sakhmet held her breath. Prepared for a cry, prepared for anything that might hint at her son's upset.

Instead, he was distracted. Carried away on childish whims to the next thing that shuffled about in the grasses. There is relief more than anything else. She was not sure he could be consoled on a thing that they have not even discussed yet.

Death.

She shoved the one-word thought aside in favor of nosing his rump, encouraging him to once more go for an insect. This time a cricket, strumming its summer song with its legs. An unknown temptation for children. Only briefly did she cast a look over her shoulder. The form of Malrok not very far, undoubtedly examining the things his brother left in his wake.

the reality that he had ended the butterfly's life does not sink into his head: does not really enter his conscious at all. the complexity of death is not something he understands yet in it's entirety. presently, he understands it in the way of food but in it's simplest form without questioning it.

so, the smashed butterfly hits him with a small spark of something but he does not dwell upon it.

grabbed by a child's whimsical attention; forgotten about as quick as it happened.

a moss covered antler piece snatches his attention then and he tugs a bit to pull it from where it's been embedded in the earth.

mama! he calls to sahkmet; picking up the freed antler piece to show her. lookit i founds!

My boy!

She called to him, her own tail waving behind her. So happy to see him content — to see him as she always wanted him to be. The old antler a perfect fit for her eldest.

You did not tell me you were already such a great hunter.

This spoken as she went to run her nose between his ears.

beneath her words, kivaluk cannot help but preen; especially when she compliments his hunting abilities. in truth, finding the antler had been coincidence and had required hardly any effort in kivaluk's part but his chest puffs out as if he'd slayed the mighty beast the moss covered antlers had belonged to himself. i wanna be the greatestest hunter! he proclaims to his mother — though admittedly, his mind changed from day to day; interest flitting like the rapid beat of a hummingbird's wings.

She lifted a paw, seeking to prod a toe into his puffed chest.

You will have to follow your father then. Did you know he was a grand hunter in another village before here? Only fondness in her voice for his days of Moonglow. Kukutux had done more for the both of them than they could ever repay, she feared.

a giggle; loud and childish in it's nature bubbles from kivaluk's lips as his mother pokes him in the chest with a toe.

no, kivaluk drawls out the word, giving his head a small shake to further enunciate the word. despite this, it does not come as surprise. only awe. to kivaluk, kigipigak was the greatest warrior and hunter ever and his mother's words only further solidify this thought within his mind.

i wanna be just like dad! he crows; though it probably does not need to be said. already, his idolization of him is obvious and would only become more so with time.

fade? <3

Then you must listen to him and follow his teachings, She informed him with a soft nudge to his side. But for now, you will explore with me. This she said as a tease.

I will tell you stories about a time before you, when your father was a hunter elsewhere...