Lost Creek Hollow where and when along the way

*SNATCHES*

At some point, had it been a day or two, Harlyn had finally relented and allowed him back within the warm confines of the den. Though he had not objected to being thrust from it and into the bitter cold, his interest in his children steered him back. And they were small, just as she had said of them, but much more than the words he could ever find to describe them with. If anything they were awe-inspiring, though hardly the first puppies he had ever had the experience with. But these were the first that were his own and there was something so profoundly wondrous about that.

He crested in and out of sleep, not entirely willing to get a grip on lucidity and begin the day. He had turned his back to the mouth of the den at some point during the evening, content as acting a windbreak against whatever chills wrestled there way down through the narrow enclosure. What did stir him once more was the faintest of nudges against an outstretched leg and instinctively, he pulled it closer to him.