Whitebark Stream Time together isn't ever quite enough.

Frost didn't immediately recognize that his father was speaking to him. He was too overwhelmed by the sight before him. There was so much to it. There were trees and grass and ground, sure. But it was more than that. There were leaves, there was dirt and rocks, petals, seeds, everything. So much. It was a great deal for his little puppy eyes to take in, and even more for his little puppy brain to calculate.

But after a moment, he found a way to zero in on the one thing that was familiar. Artyom. Frost blinked a few times and settled his gaze on his father, his ears perked and head canted with interest. He followed his father's gesture towards where his siblings were playing so boldly and swallowed his nerves. He took a few steps forward and paused again, his eyes slipping to the side where a long blade of grass reached out to him. He blinked at it for a moment, then took a step towards it, sniffing with his little nose.