Whitebark Stream This is a world of dreams and reverie.

cameo!

Frost existed in a soundless, sightless world. He was a newborn--senses limited by the very limited amount of time he had existed in this world. But that didn't mean that life was a vast, empty darkness. To a pup whose very life was a blank slate, every sensation, every moment was something new and vibrant. From the simple act of stretching out his toes to waggling his little pink tongue, every moment was something truly, wildly miraculous.

Not that he cared. He was a baby, so the newness and awesomeness of everything went completely over his head. He took it all in as more of an oh, neat rather than the OMFG NEAT!!! that a fully conscious, self-aware being would feel were just about every second of their life a new experience. In a way, it was a waste of gratitude. But it was also far more relaxing to simply experience life with the calm acceptance the littlest Whitebark had adopted. And as such a very, very little Whitebark, calm was certainly the preferred method of existence. He was simply too small for such big feelings.

So, when the other mini pumpkins began their squirming and smushing and squeaking--perhaps new experienes, perhaps not (they've been alive four whole days now, I mean come on)--Frost merely tucked himself away. Let them be rowdy and playful and excited about their sensationally sightless, soundless world. Frost was there to snuggle, eat, wet himself, and snuggle a bit more in peaceful contentment.