Heron Lake Plateau i can see a shitfaced brother that i covered for what must've been the last ten years

Svalinn turned googling eyes from stranger to stranger as they each in turn gave him something interesting or unfamiliar to study. His attention was stolen particularly by the golden wolf; her bright fur marred casually by the dark sight and scent of dried blood. His interest warred with his instinct to be wary of her. He stretched his forehalf towards her -- with great, quick huffs of his button-nose -- but he refused to shift his hind legs any nearer which resulted in an over-extended posture he flinched out of after a false startle.

He looked to Caiaphas for support, but her attention was being siphoned by a supremely relaxed she-wolf; an air of luxury he would come to learn came from being the head of a well-equipped pack. He continued to eye her, vandalizing her dark fur and warm expression with a hungering stare. It took a few moments for the boy in the midst of being weaned, to realize what it was about her that struck him as so interesting.

He sniffed deeper, the scent of the new mother's milk drawing him in. Caiaphas had, much to his chagrin, begun chasing him away from her teets, but these were unspoken for! Svalinn regressed instantly and forgot his supposed wariness. The only thing that mattered now was that he address his basic need, and the starved junkie made a mad dive for Raven's belly, intent on latching on and suckling with all the speed and desperation instilled in him from being constantly on the move his entire micro-life.