Deepwood Weald there's a hound at your heels

No part of Lycabas cared about the journey. After being dragged back in line so many times from chasing his whims, he had given up on wonder and settled into marching along -- trying to keep up with the quick strides of mother and the long-legged gait of father. Their seriousness went over his head, and he only felt bitter at having his exploration curbed.

Mean!

The sound of his inner voice grew in volume the further they went from the Shadewood. It had gone from an incoherent babble to a loud whisper, and he tried to ignore it as much as his surroundings. In fact, the only time he didn't feel any animosity was when one of his siblings would distract him. Melaneus -- easily his favorite sibling given how quiet he was -- turned out to be the saving grace this time.

He pressed his side into his dark-furred brother, and finally allowed himself to study their fog-laden environment. Lycabas' pace slowed as his nose worked, and he drifted from the procession line in pursuit of a scent he hadn't had the opportunity to chase before. A mouse hiding beneath the fronds of a fern cluster leaped out of the way as the cream child discovered it.

Without hesitating, Lycabas pounced to catch the tiny beast, but it had already skittered away, leaving the boy excited and confused as he tried to find it again.