Hoshor Plains of a chain reaction of countermoves

Valiant's tail thumped unconsciously to the beat as well. He listened intently to the words, a small smile belying tender and wistful rumination.

"That's real nice," he sat at the end. "Dutch's momma sang to all the kids — but it weren't a story like that one. He'd probably like yours better."

He guessed that she had lullabies on her mind because she was preparing to sing them to her own babes. Valiant's tail swept in time with a skitter of his heartbeat — he was eager to see all the new faces come springtime. He stood a good chance of meeting them when they were still small, if he remained among the moon wolves.

"Your family does a lotta things real different," he noted, and it was clear that he was going somewhere with this. He wanted to know what it took to raise moon children, and what might be expected of a father, and what milestones they would need to be guided through that might be different from the ones he knew. "What was it like for you, growing up?"