Whitebark Stream the stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

He was rarely far from Dawn, not nearly as bold as his sisters who seemed increasingly eager to taste freedom as they grew. He was naturally mischievous, but never enough to earn the matriarch's wrath. So when he heard Juniper's name echo through the trees, made sharp on his mother's tongue, Winter Whitebark's raven lobes smoothed back against his crown.

It was not him who the she-wolf called for, but he felt the sting of her ire all the same. Obedient only for her, Winter abandoned his rummaging in the dirt to trot in her direction. "Mатушка," he said softly as he moved in to affectionately press his peppered flannk to her hind limb, and wagged his tail almost sheepishly as he dared to ask: "where she go?"