Redhawk Caldera I AM SAM. I AM SAM. SAM I AM.

tawny lark toddled forward on legs that didn’t quite know how to leg yet —
all wobbles and wide paws and a tail that wagged her more than she wagged it.

the world beyond the denmouth shimmered like a dream.
light spilled in, warm and golden, dust motes floating like tiny stars she could almost catch.
she squeaked at them, jaws snapping on empty air.

one step… two… oops — her rump plopped down, but she popped right back up,
undaunted, a fearless explorer of ten whole feet of earth.

outside smelled different. bigger. brighter.
her nose quivered, gathering every scent it could hold —
rain-soaked leaves, morning frost, the distant musk of someone she didn’t know.

with a triumphant chirp, tawny lark marched into her new kingdom,
paws sinking in soft dirt, ears pricked too big for her head,
ready to discover every leaf, pebble, and mysterious shadow
that dared to exist outside her den.

the world was huge.
and she was very brave.

Children had always been strange to Cinar. How could something come into the world with as little strength or common sense as a rodent and manage to grow into something as mighty as a wolf? He had never disliked them, he had gotten along with Killdeer and Amalia's young one's just fine, but he still couldn't understand how so many lived.

Maybe that was why when an unfamiliar pup, surely one of Towhee's, wandered from the den without a parent his immediate reaction was dread, panic, and then only a pit in his stomach.

Rising to his paws, he approached with a chuff passing his lips. Back inside yavru, where's your mother? Sleeping inside the Hobbit Hole, he assumed.

tawny lark froze, then wobbled brave,
eyes big as moons, tail doing a wave —
uh—ba? mmf! prrrt? she sang,
words all wrong but courage rang.

she plopped her butt and blinked once slow,
paws splayed wide in a baby glow,
then babbled on, a milky cheer,
buh! da! nah! to the shadow near.

no fear at all, just wonder stark —
the world was strange,
and so was lark.