Whitebark Stream Travel light, let the sun eclipse you.

"Отец," crooned the boy as he roused, and lifted his raven-tipped crown from atop Juniper's warm shoulders. His large ears twitched at the sound of rainfall above and beyond the den while wide blue eyes scanned the darkness for the ranger's gilded pelage.

Winter parted his jaws in a wide yawn before he gathered to his paws, stepping carelessly over his slumbering siblings. A sleepy growl came from whichever one whose tail he trod on, but he paid no attention as he padded curiously toward the threshold of the leader's family hollow where Artyom looked out beyond.

Pressing his little body against his sire's seated haunch, Winter peered outside. It was raining, heavily, and he could smell the damp earth. "Wha's dis?"