Hushed Willows Petrichor

The pack's tiniest member did not rouse when his mother departed. He dreamed, one paw jammed into his mouth while the other three kicked minutely in his sleep. He did not stir even when heavy footfalls plodded closer and the Alpha male reposed nearby, near enough that his elbow brushed the slumbering cub. Only when Warbone flopped to the ground and sent out a shock wave did Tambourine awake, spitting out his own damp foot and loosing an inquisitive squawk.

The puppy rolled from his side onto his belly, then pushed himself partially upright. His blunt nose tipped into the air as Tavi returned and began feeding. The scent of fresh blood caused Tambourine's nose to wriggle in interest. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he began shuffling toward the Alpha female, tail thrust out behind him like a rudder. Still he steered amiss, bumping instead into the lounging Warbone. The whelp peeped, pressing his face against the wall of muscle and fur as if he might pass through with enough willpower.

When that didn't work after several minutes of effort, Tambourine grunted and plopped backward onto his haunches. His little face screwed into a thoughtful expression, then relaxed a moment later. The pup seemed to shrug off the tantalizing scent and rolled sideways with a playful squeak, then onto his back, pedaling his stumpy limbs in the air even as his eyelids gently parted for the first time. He was rewarded with his first view of the world, albeit upside-down and decidedly fuzzy.