Northstar Vale love is terror

by the week he grows; sprouting like a weed. no longer is he content to linger in the confines of the birthing den; space shared with his mother and sisters. though there is a distinct chill in the air and a lack of warm, buttery sunshine, hakon ventures boldly to the mouth of the den all the same. for a moment, he is hesitant, peering out into the greyscape of the overcast sky and dulled colors that paint the vale.

he draws in a breath, peers behind his shoulder and slips outside the den.

the chill creeps in closer now without the warmth of the den; but hakon does not let it deter him. curiousity leads him forward; unbidden and unhindered by fear or caution.