Stavanger Bay Hideaway

When Julooke vacated the den, leaving the four pups momentarily unattended (admittedly not an abnormal occurrence), Kevlyn scarcely noticed. He was hard-wired to keep quiet when abnormalities did happen. For now, he kept up his racket, pushing against his sleeping sibling with insistent paws and making no progress.

Something quickly changed, though. Kevlyn had a very well organized catalogue in his subconscious of the scents he had encountered, with particularly positive feedback to Julooke's scent, and although his senses were limited and his nose was stuffy, he knew this one was not familiar. His instincts kicked in immediately and he went still and limp, stuffing his loud whines back where they'd come from. In essence, he was "hiding".

He was doing a piss poor job of it, though, because the unfamiliar thing touched him. All defenses were broken as Kevlyn let out a loud, frightened wail and struggled against the unseen force. He was so wrapped up in his terror and upset that he didn't notice Julooke's scent filling the den once more, nor sense the timbre of his mother's voice in his bones. He simply wailed and wailed.