Wheeling Gull Isle ephemeral

He already loved the sound of her voice.  So soft and soothing, her words were like honey on his newly-opened ears.  When she spoke, he gazed at her raptly, his full attention focused on her.  He was fascinated at the way she did that -- made sounds with her lips that were so nice to hear.  A tiny figure beside him made...strange sounds.  Sounds that were not pleasing to his newly-functional ears.  It mewled and fussed and growled a lot, which in turn disturbed and unsettled him.  He himself was usually silent, a quiet child who did more observing than talking.

When his mother spoke, he again fixated upon her voice, stormwater eyes wide with fascination.  She gently ushered them toward the opening of their shelter -- much to the vociferous displeasure of his littermate -- and Droman toddled ahead, eager to be out in the light and warmth of the sun, where interesting things buzzed and chirped and crunched under his feet.