Redhawk Caldera the felled giant

The ordeal with the storm had gone by surprisingly quiet for the pup, who had by now deciphered he had a variety of names to be called. The pup did not know that this wasn't a normal thing, that one had one real name and the others were all just nick names; he thought he had many names. When his mother was in a jolly mood, she would refer to him as 'little twig' at times. His father most often called him 'Eljay', and yet others named him 'baby Elwood', 'little Elwood', and other such names.

The tornado had blown right past them, and little Elwood had not seen it, for he had been underground, huddled with the rest of the pack. This huddling was exciting for little Elwood, but he remained silent as usually, letting it all just happen.

Now the most of the storm was gone. Little Elwood sat outside of the den today, and he stared at the still-grey skies. With interest, little Elwood watched everything around him. Things looked different than before. The pup's motorics were not as great as those of his age -- seven weeks to date -- were normally. He should be able to run and bound and play perfectly fine, but the pup still had some trouble with his balance. Perhaps it was because he was born early, or perhaps there were other reasons. The pup himself did not notice this much: he had no one to compare to, and so he did not think that he was slow or different at all.

Little Elwood waddled forward in a clumsy trot -- a couple of times it looked like he would fall over -- towards a fallen tree. With curiosity, the little pup stared wide-eyed upon the felled giant. Tiny, flopped over ears were pressed forward in curiosity and in caution as he waited, standing still. The pup waited to see if the tree would do anything, and was not entirely convinced it was safe yet, for now.