Stone Circle Unseen enemy

Preferably a one-on-one thread? ❤ Open to anyone!

Confidence grows in young Newt, yet grass remains an ever present enemy. Any time he slips out of the den in company of his family, the boy finds his legs itchy. He gnaws on his paws, whining about the strange feeling that simply wouldn't go away. Is he strange? None of his siblings, nor his parents, seem to have a similar war.

Newt adventures from the den's grasp nonetheless, too curious by the unknown to be shackled down when there is much to take in. Of course, the greyscale boy does not travel far. He stays close, just enjoying the clearing before the large den—the space Valette called the pack together to see meet them all. Ignoring the itchy feeling on his legs, Newt takes to playing with a rock. He bats it into the air, and storms after it. Repeat, over and over again. It's a simple routine that keeps him entertained with small yips and playful growls.

Still as the towering stones hidden among the territory, Greyback observes his sons squabble with a curious gaze and upturned brow, his body hidden among the rocky outcrop of the den. 

A rock was being thrown about by the lad, the sound it made hitting the dirt beating like a drum- albeit a drum with no rhythm. The father was curious as to what compelled the boy to play with such a thing instead of making friends. Surely he was old enough to start socializing with the others. West and Clay had already formed some sort of bond, even if it entailed them fighting over everything.

Leta and Newt however, werent getting out much.

"Newt," he called, but was ultimately unheard as the boy continued to toss the rock around. "Newt," His tone was sharper now as he stared at the grey whelp with his brows now furrowed. As young as his son was, he expected to boy to know his name once called and give him attention. "What do you have?" He questioned.

Newt tosses the stone particularly far, it thuds and his ears—one still flopped at the tip—stand alert at the loud noise. Carefully, he crouches, and begins to slink forward, not hearing the call of his name over his concentration.

It is only when his father's tone turns sharper that the scholar snaps out of his trance. Immediately, he sits up and whips his head in Greyback's direction. (Dizzying, for a moment.) Tail beats fast for a moment before he noticed his stern expression. Ears fold back, and his tongue peaks from his lips, looking guilty and confused over what he did wrong.

Pa, he whimpers; his voice expressing his emotions further. Newt shrinks, and slowly gets to his feet again. He approaches his father, tail wagging between his legs.

Greyback watches as Newt finally hears, and when the boy slinks forward to meet him he bends down to press a lick to his forehead. He never figured his children were refer to him as 'pa,' but the simple tone and pronounciation of it rolling off his son's tongue sends his heart rolling up into his throat.

"Listen for when you're called, dear." He replies, his voice now soft, and eyes the rock again with a skeptical gaze before opening his jaws and picking up Newt by his midsection. The weight and softness is awkward to the man, and he wonders if he is hurting the boy. He tries to hold him as gentle as possible on a flat tongue covering his teeth and waits for any squealing. He has never held a pup before, but doubts the cool colored pup will make it to where they're going next on his newly found feet.

He carries the boy to stone circle, taking his time as he strolls through the long grass that's hidden under the canopy of trees— their leaves filtering the light downwards onto the forest floor in specks of gold.

Worried that he is in trouble, the greyscale boy relaxes at his father’s gentle touch—so much so, that he releases a giggle. Smile still upon his lips, Newt attempts to brush under Greyback’s chin before the massive wolf opens his jaws to pick him up. Newt freezes, going slack as jaws softly grasp his midsection. Baby blue eyes widen in wonder; seeing the world from a whole new perspective for the first time.

“Ooo,” he squeals, baby talk blabbing from the greyscale scholar out of excitement alone. Despite how loud he was before his ears opened fully, his voice always remains soft and quieter than this siblings.

No whine came from the boy, only a small squeal and blubbering. Good. Greyback smiled at how well his son was behaving, it made everything a lot easier. He wouldn't know what to do if the forest was scared off by a yelling child.

As they walked Greyback pointed out things to his son along the way. Trees. Sky. Grass. Chipmunks. He was adamant about drilling as much knowledge as he could into his son, though he wasn't sure how clear his words were since they were muffled by a tiny puppy body.

When Stone Circle came into view he let the boy down, nosing over his body and giving tentative licks to the fur to smooth it before walking towards the pillars. He would keep an eye on his son, never letting him stray and making sure he went slow enough so Newt could catch up. The lad was tiny, barely able to keep stride with just ONE of Greyback's.

"This is Stone Circle," he introduced. "Can you say that, Newt? Stone Circle?"

Although his voice is muffled, Newt takes in every word Greyback introduces him to. Pronunciation a mystery and something the scholar will take time fully grasping, but now he knows what each object and creature is. The pup tries to speak after his father, blabbing words until large, towering stones come into view. They are bigger than even Greyback! Newt gasps.

Soon he finds his feet touching the ground once more. First his hindlegs, and then his forepaws. The ride is over, but Newt can't find himself too disappointed when he can stare in wonder and fear at these colossal objects. He trots after his father, strides uncertain at first before he gains confidence as he goes. His gait still odd as the grass bothers him, and he tries to be as light on his feet as possible.

Sss... Ss ohne Sircle, he tries.