Wheeling Gull Isle you're a child, not a man

Life within the womb was once akin to floating through space, weightless and free. There were no worries to be wept over or antics to partake in—there was hardly existence, only a sliver’s worth barely hanging on. These moments he would come to forget, for did he truly even experience them? The wonders of the womb were a vague experience, after all—unable to be proven or otherwise. Someday in the future, he may even cry out about the stolen space as his siblings, too, grew within. But those cries would have no memories to support them, a joke to be repeated amongst children until the end of time.

But for Xiaoqing, time was only just beginning.

The first stone cast into the world, an escapee with no intention of looking back. There was warmth and then there was cold, two new experiences for the whelp, and then the gentle caress of his mother’s tongue.

His first breath—deep and lengthy, fueling the first protests he had to make. And then a second went by and he was moved, lifted from the ground and placed closer to something else, something warm and soft, something… something enticing. Blindly nosing his way through the thinned fur of his mother’s abdomen, the babe was soon latched onto a teat and dozing off soundly.