Moonspear blood of my blood

He arrived in due time, facing the initial transition into the life ahead with all the grace, bravado, and fury a freshly-born wolf could muster. A wriggling thing, or lively depending on the view, he was quick to protest this considerable upheaval of course. Everything had changed in what seemed like an instant, and though nature's sure touch had so far kept him very safe and wholly prepared.. these initial jarring moments of such sheer newness were definitely cause for complaint. From the second he found his lungs, he cried out, for none of this seemed right! Why this! And why now! Wasn't he still so small!? Until this instant, there had been comfort, darkness, and warmth—until he was plucked from the ether of his swirling and drifting universe's vastness, and sent headlong into the fray called being.

But.. his cries hushed down then shifted into low grunts under the efforts of his mother's cleansing tongue, bringing him immediate relief from all the unfamiliarity that ailed him. Maybe that was going to help, and as a sensation not so unwelcome as the chilly, firm, new world at his paws, maybe he could be convinced. Maybe wrong wasn't it—maybe he was just very new at this, so limited in his reach, and oh, really really hungry... !! Thanks to a little help to get himself in the right direction, he could remedy one matter and he latched himself on. Steadily, that greedy hunger phased into contentedness. That was better, too. When some of his siblings eventually came to join at his sides, instinctively, that eased further him as well.

So for the time being, this newborn Ostrega quieted himself, drank his fill, then dozed off to conclude the event that marked his arrival. But is any end anything more than something else’s beginning..?