Hushed Willows Kissing up on fences and up on walls on the way home

The light shivering at the entrance of the den was as a siren song to the pup now that her vision was strong. She'd gone toward it once before, but despite the sense of wonder she'd initially felt, Prialux shied away in the end. She lingered near enough for the light to reach her pale paws, but she never deigned to step outside for fear of what lay beyond. The vastness of it was sublime and well beyond her fathoming. She was still scarcely able to remember a thing, still could commit no word to memory nor speak one nor truly control her actions, but her first impression of the world beyond the den remained imprinted on her brain forever.

Every day, however, the dancing of the light as the willow leaves overhead shifted in the breeze piqued her curiosity. Every day when she was neither nursing nor sleeping nor socializing with her siblings, she lay near the entry, just out of sight, and stared at the light on the floor. Every day, she felt a tugging in her heart to investigate. Every day, she faltered. Like a child learning to walk for the very first time, Prialux would know when Prialux was ready, and not a moment before.

Today, it seemed, she was ready. At least just a little bit. She inched forward on her belly, one paw at a time, with her tail whipping anxiously back and forth behind her. Her chin rubbed across the floor as she pulled herself into the light and squinted against it as it draped over her face and shoulders. From here she could see the shifting red, orange, and yellow canopy above, and her eyes went wide as dinner plates as she twisted her head to stare up at it. Prialux quaked just as she had the first time she saw the world, but this time, she held her ground.