Golden Glade The Next Generation

He was a mixture of restlessness and patience. His moods came and went: sometimes, he would have a sudden bout of energy and kick and shove at everything he could get his paws on, whether they be his mother's poor stomach, or his smaller siblings who, unfortunately, shared the tiny space he inhabited. Other times, however, he was as still as a rock, so eerily still that one would sometimes wonder if he existed at all, so unmoving was he. If not for his large body, perhaps, at those times, the dark boy could just as well be considered, well, nonexistent.

It just so happened that when the contractions started, and one by one, the various blobs that inhabited his space began to leave, he was in one of his utterly still and silent moods, thus, it came to no surprise that he happened to be the last to leave the warm womb; the only place he'd ever known; the only home he'd ever known. 

He felt himself being pushed out, and as he landed, all confused and tired, his mother brought him out of his sac. He took his first breath and almost immediately, opened his tiny mouth and let loose several ear-piercing wails and shrieks that was sure to cause his parents a lot of ear damage. Even as a newborn, one could see that the dark shadow of a boy would be a difficult child. Nevertheless, the largest sibling, surprisingly, allowed his mother to lick him dry and clean without much of a fuss, and as he snuggled up against her side and latched on a teat, he did not quarrel with his siblings or attempt to dominate them in anyway. Rather, he drank the milk quietly, and ignored their ever moving and writhing bodies, though they did annoy him somewhat, and when he was full of the warm liquid, and his belly was full, he curled up against his mother's side and fell asleep, just like that.

He would deal with the annoying little bodies beside him later.

Right now, he wanted to sleep.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.