Dragoncrest Cliffs all is well

@Thuringwethil

Each passing day drew forth new developments from the pale-furred boy. He found joy in wrestling with his siblings and exploring the area around his family’s den. His favorite activities typically involved insects, twigs, and pebbles. He was a rambunctious child, albeit distinctly curious and observant.
 
Having picked up on the notion that the grownups would teach him new things, he wasn’t keen on wandering very far from them – there was no telling when he would need them to show him something.
 
It was late afternoon as the trees’ shadows grew lengthy against the ground, and Artaax found himself entranced and perplexed by his inability to touch or feel the strange dark objects. He pawed at the dirt, whining his displeasure when his motion produced no tangible effect on the shadow.
 
Bewildered, he lifted his head until he spotted his ever-watchful nomi lounging nearby. His eager, squeaky bark pierced the calm spring air as he bounded towards her, only to stumble backwards in the direction of the shadows in hopes of beckoning her near.
 
Pivoting around, he resumed his clumsy digging against the soft earth to try to get to the bottom of the strange anomalies splayed against the ground.