Lion Head Mesa 'iizala

first to draw breath outside the womb and first to receive his name, zakariya set a rather drab tone for the entry of jawahir's first litter into the world. the hebsut's pseudo-firstborn was little more than a scraggly scrap of damp ochre-and-ash fur, a muddle of color somewhere between newborn grey and the true nut-brown hue of his adult coat. his cries were weak and wavering. he struggled to feel warm, even tucked at jawahir's side. and in his own way, he grieved his new reality. already the young coywolf had begun to learn the first and most dreadful lesson of life.

to exist is to suffer.