Whitebark Stream time don’t make it better

surya would not be the one to scare the moth away; the child himself took care of that. they then locked eyes, and he felt his stomach sink and twist as the boy screamed, looking distraught. he emerged from the shrubbery slowly, carefully, blinking gently at the pup to assure him he was no threat.

it's okay, chhotu, he said softly, settling himself down on his belly. there. he was low to the ground, no longer hovering over the boy. a small smile bloomed over his muzzle, his shoulders relaxed and his tail gently wagging behind him. it's okay. i'm a friend. my name's surya.

he had little experience with pups. he'd left the nest before a stint as babysitter to the newest crop. this was a test, of sorts.

would he be a good father? was that genetic, or learned?