Wheeling Gull Isle son... sun...

seldom did the lionet wander far from either parents’ side, and never had he stepped from pride rock. this labyrinth of stone was all he’d ever known, though that hadn’t been much of an inconvenience. he enjoyed being around both mother and father, having them available whenever needed; what more was there, for which he could ask?

hearing his mother’s voice, huojin stepped carefully from his hiding place behind a short stone pillar. m.. he called to her, ma. such simple words were easy to translate; the more difficult, more abstract words still gave him trouble. 

he tumbled toward his mother’s legs, tripping only once on oversized paws. i go? huojin asked. his nose was pointed toward the outside, his eyes trying to peek at their view from the perch. unsuccessful, he gave himself permission to explore further, whispering: i go.