Silvertip Mountain However long you stay is all that I am

His tiny paw had struck a chord and a nerve in his sister. It appeared to cause some involuntary shudder, which trembled down his arm. He may have been young, dumb, deaf and stupid but that was enough to stay his paw. He kept it against her soft fur, resting his tiny velvet pads against the breastbone which contained her delicate heart. Sorry, the gesture said.
 
Both small, considering their early evacuation, there was still a distinct difference between them. She was the dove to his raven. It was a miracle she had survived at all, and they were not out of the woods yet.
 
A tentative paw reached out, patting him with the most feminine of gestures. It clobbered him on his ribcage, but barely moved a tuft of fur out of place. Mason let out a throaty "Brrrrrrrrrrr", glad for any gentle contact she could give him. Without her he would be alone. There would be wolves around that loved him of course, but without this little girl he would be the only one. The soul survivor of the onslaught of stress that had presumably driven them from their mother's womb.

June had gone still under his gentle caress, and Mason continued. His tongue peeped from between a row of salmon gums. Tentatively he scooped some fur into his mouth. The silken wispy threads tangled with his tastebuds, and suddenly he let out a violent (or as violent as can be expect for a newborn) sneeze right into her ruff.