Bearclaw Valley If Satan had a hockey team then I'd be the goalie

If asked to describe his daily schedule, Lucas' would be something like this: sleep 4 hours, wake up, breakfast, dance routine. Sleep another 4 hours. Wake up, other breakfast, explore the den a bit, chew on Piper or Wyatt a bit, sleep another 6 or 7 hours. Wake up, have an extremely long dinner until his belly hurt, then dance and bop away the pain until he inevitably burped. Sleep for another however-many-hours, waking up multiple times to feed, smile at his siblings, smile at his mother, and smile at Indra. Finish the day with another dance routine. About 75% sleep, 15% eat, and 10% dance. Life was truly sexy.
Cue—gasp—a curveball. Between Lucas' second breakfast and his appointed den exploration, something new had happened. At first he didn't notice it. In fact, the change had occurred when he first awoke, but it took him a good many hours to recognize that something had changed. His world wasn't dark anymore. It wasn't quite light, either, but there was definitely something very different about it that made him freeze in place, exploration forgotten.
And then his gums pulled into a wide, pleased smile, newly opened eyes crinkling endearingly, and he wriggled on the spot while the little internal beat that accompanied his life met its first crescendo as excitement overwhelmed him.

Mama @Laurel maybe? Bumped up a couple days 'cause bored of potato phase.