Dawnlark Plains when god falls fast asleep

He listened closely, wrapped in the warmth and scent of the golden wolf; quickly he had come to associate it with the soothing sound of his voice, and found himself calmed. Thoughts danced through his head as he listened. Simple ones, perhaps, compared to the worries and musings maturity would bring him. He grasped onto Aditya's words nonetheless, and understood quickly that he spoke of Grayday, if indirectly.
River didn't understand the point though, not really— perhaps he would one day. It made little sense to him to be comforted by a presence just out of reach; what could make the world right when he would never embrace his father again? Nothing, nothing, nothing.
But some things helped. He leaned down to groom Aditya's foreleg, suddenly quite focused on the task. Perhaps it seemed like he had ignored his story entirely, but it was rather the opposite. River could only think to groom the golden wolf to show his appreciation. After a little bit of this, he paused to yawn.
Adi-tya, Ad-eeeeee He yawned again. What had his mother said so lovingly yesterday? I looooooff— No, no, that wasn't it. Loooove! You! That was it!