Redhawk Caldera Bones in the soil, rust in the oil

Whip continued to hobble forward on clumsy legs, guided only by his newly aquired sense of sight. It was the light from outside the den that drew him in -- his single squinted eye laid transfixed -- but soon the light was obscured— a shadow taking it's place. Blurry and black, Whip back peddled a bit in fear and apprehension. After his initial reaction, however, Whip was quick to recognize his father's scent. So this was whe he looked like? He had imagined smaller.  

No longer apprehensive, Whip inched forward, but not without caution.  He lifted a tiny forepaw to touch his father's face, but as soon as it left the ground, Whip lost his balance and toppled over like a weeble-wobble.