Golden Glade Vans

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Though it is strange …to not share a den with his mother (and perhaps his father?) he takes comfort from the only home he needs: Tapat. Golden Glade is not Larksong Grotto but Astik has long since adapted to the fact that wolves were home more than a territory was. Astik is a behemoth: something he has only recently began to realize. His concerns for the past few months were not on the growth he had experienced, nor how his pudge had begun to harden into impressive musculature. He only realizes it now because the den feels small to him even though it fits him and Tapat comfortably. Still, there is not much room to stretch and Astik rather thinks he would rather spend his nights out in the open. He is not small anymore. He is not helpless and though he tries to understand his mother’s insistence (and knows that her heart is, of course, in the right place) he wonders if he assures her that if anything or anyone wants to hurt Tapat that they would, first, have to get through the battering ram that the rook has become he has yet to. His mother’s bark stirs Astik from his sleep and he groggily follows his pallid brother from the den. For a moment he squints against the sunlight until his eyes adjust before his gaze settles upon his mother, curious as to why she has awoken them.

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