Redhawk Caldera Not a wing flapper in sight.

Having his eyes cracked partially open brought along new experiences and emotions. The brightness he had seen behind his closed eyelids was now even brighter and he could make out blurred shapes and dull colors. In his young mind he was able to tell the difference between three blurry blobs. His momma, his daddy, and his brother. He had also worked out how to wriggle and crawl toward the curious bright light so that he could move about a foot before he was dragged back to safety, but it never stopped him from trying again.


A new blob entered his limited vision and he used this as an opportunity to crawl toward that light. He wanted ever so badly to see what was by that light. Would it face? Would it grow brighter? Would he disappear into it? He obviously  didn't know that it would lead to a whole new bigger world. He scooted and squirmed and made low growling grunts of determination as he worked his way toward the mouth of the den, the source of this light.