Bearclaw Valley Like a rushing waterfall

Xan was enjoying his little taste of freedom. Freedom. He knew not yet of the word, nor was he familiar with the meaning behind it, but had he known he would have been able to put a name to his joy. Though his legs were tired, and his thickening fur soaked, he wanted to press forward. The adults were doing it, so why couldn't he? That was the thing—he didn't believe he couldn't. The young Inuit was completely confident in what he was doing, and was determined to keep up with the others. He didn't think he needed carried, like his sisters did. He was a big and strong wolf, after all. Well, that was what he thought, anyways. What kept him going was not the strength his body possessed, as he was much too small to be as strong as the elders, but his determination. His dad was watching him, and his one sister was marching though the storm, too. Already, his barely developed mind urged him to walk as if he had something to prove—which he certainly did not.

Despite his want to hold tight to the fearless facade he'd put on, it all came crumbling down as his mother lunged in his direction, sounding rather angry. At first, he suspected it was directed towards him, as he had been splashing in the puddles just moments prior. Thinking that, his ears fell back and his odd eyes went wide. He kept his gaze pinned up on his mother, preparing himself for whatever she had to say, but it never came. It didn't come for him, at least. Xan watched his mother portray an outburst of anger towards his father, which left him utterly confused. The fact that he couldn't understand all the words didn't help, either, and the kid was left in the dark about what was going on. Even as his mother turned back to pick up his sister and started walking, he had no idea what was going on, or what had even happened. His gaze then shifted to the other child who'd been moving on foot, only to find her being lifted up by a dark wolf. A little smile pulled at his maw, then, taking on as cocky of a look as someone his age could muster up. That is, until he felt himself being lifted up.

Alexander squirmed slightly at first, having not taken notice to who had grabbed him. It was only when he heard the low voice of his father mumbling something he couldn't quite make out, that he settled down. As long as it was one of his parents, he would let them carry him through the storm. Not because he was weak or tired, though—that'd be completely absurd—but because he felt he was doing them a favour. Yeah, that sounded good to him. In truth, however, he was glad to have been picked up, since his body hadn't really been enjoying trying to keep up with the adults. Their legs were so much longer than his, it was almost unbelievable. As he hung from his dad's jaws, he couldn't help but wish for the day when he was older. When the time came that his legs were long enough to keep up, and then he'd be able to go wherever he wanted. It sounded like a good idea, but whether or not his sudden want to travel would be answered was another story entirely.