Stavanger Bay i'll be on deck

Thanks for joining it, mama! <3 hehe.

There was so much more outside the confines of the birthing den, and Jorunn had made it clear that he did not fear it (though a healthy dose of fear might not be a bad thing). He wanted to explore and conquer it. It was like a fire that burned like a hunger within him. It did not hurt but it was not sated until he was (more or less) getting into trouble. After discerning that the gray lump was actually a rotted, fallen log, the sweet scent of it's decay, moss and dirt strong in his nose, which wrinkled he let out a noise of surprise (mostly that it had taken it's proper shape) and dove into it. Small as it was it took some force to squeeze his shoulders through it. Perhaps a child with more wordly experience would have recognized a bad idea when he saw it, and might have realized that since his shoulders didn't initially fit unless he applied force, that insisting upon it would get him stuck, but this was experience that Jorunn didn't have; and even if the instinct had been there telling him not to do it the young legend paid it no mind.

A small grunt left him when he got stuck, his rump sticking out. Ears slicked back against his skull as his claws scraped furiously against the decaying bottom of the wood, attempting to pull the rest of himself inside it, towards the middle where he could visibly see that it widened. There other side was measurably wider but he had to get to that side first. Moss tickled his nose and he let out a sneeze, momentarily distracted from trying to tug the rest of himself free. It gave him pause and with a victorious “HA!” his bum was free and his body — clearly big even though he was still 'small' by ...everyone's standards except his own was scrunched in. He wiggled his way towards the wider side of it, and burst out of it, having to give himself a push. The action caused some of the decaying wood to splinter and fall apart. His head shot up, peeking over the top of the log, one paw placed on the top of it as his ears splayed to either side of his skull, small splinters of soft wood and bits of moss tangled and laying lazily on his head and twined lightly through the longer fur of his dorsal and nape. 

His mother's scent was strong upon the air, her sweet mother's milk still an alluring scent to him though he was more or less entirely weaned by this point. As it was, Jorunn thought nothing of it, confident that he hadn't been followed and that her scent was that strong in the territory naturally. With a toothy grin he shoved off of the log and traipsed further away from the heart of the Bay, as brazen and big as you please.