Neverwinter Forest and he's stolen the strands of sunlight

The sensation of movement did not trouble the soot sprite; he and Rannoch, although mostly inclined to sleep like the dead, kicked and squirmed enough as they dreamed to render the Neverwinter prince fairly immune to being jostled out of his slumber. That being said, the sensation of aloneness was far more concerning — and the chill that gradually replaced the reassuring warmth of Rannoch’s closeness roused Cypress immediately. Before he was fully awake, he bumbled to his paws and blindly careened into his mother like a tiny, fluffy drunk. He nosed at her abdomen, kneading his paws instinctively, but did not nurse for long at the sound of an unfamiliar voice outside the den and Rannoch’s joyous shriek. It broke through the cotton stuffing of his plush, oversized ears, and his fur puffed out like a furious kitten’s as he stalked toward the den entrance and exploded out of it like a spiky cannonball of intrepid exuberance.

His attention was first claimed by his brother and father — howling his joy in a tinny, piping howl that creaked and cracked down the middle, he scampered over to them so ebulliently that he couldn’t stop himself by the time he got there. He tripped over his oversized paws with a soft thwup! and careened forward on his chest with his rump in the air like a fawn on an icy lake, the inertia from his gallop parallel parking him neatly beside his dust bunny brother. With a babyish sneeze, “Nah!” he giggled delightedly at this turn of events, his misty blue eyes turning then to his father. The steady whirring of his tail threatened to send him airborne — seeing Scimitar was always a special treat, for although the Frostfur patriarch was as attentive and loving as his mother, his duties brought him away from the den more often than Eshe. “Dah,” half-chirped, half-crooned the shadow-wrapped boy. “Awuffoo!” I love you!

This left the new female, whose dark fur and bright eyes at first reminded him of Allure — but she sounded different and she certainly smelled different. She had brought with her a fluffy heap of something that smelled distractingly like food, and the rumble of Cypress’ bottomless pit of a stomach clamored in answer. If she had brought it, certainly it was for Rannoch and Cypress to take — wasn’t it? Indulgence left Cypress without caution, and he padded curiously toward the proffered food and toward the female who had brought it along. “Wooah?” he squeaked out a bit uncertainly, feeling that this must be — no, couldn’t possibly be — his sister. They looked so alike to his baby eyes, he found himself confused, and the confusion introduced a new edge of uncertainty that made him hesitant. “Wooah?” he repeated, looking to Rannoch for verification that this was totally weird.