Hoshor Plains spellbound and spoiled

Not to be outdone and keenly attuned to the coaxing coos that left his sister’s mouth, Alasdair was behind her on wobbly legs. It might have been a more impressive feat had he not been only a tiny few steps from the safety of their milk den before he tripped on a rock, stumbling, and unceremoniously falling.

There was a blink of baby blue eyes—a frown that rivaled that of a storm cloud crossing over his tawny features, before he rolled to his belly, forepaws settled out before him in the sun’s warmth as he cast a glare out to the world, following a quick shake of his head and fur—releasing the stress of that little embarrassing moment.

Of course, it was soon forgotten when his gaze landed on Zephyra, and what she was currently exploring. “Hah,” he garbled, and once more, he was up, and trying to propel himself forward on legs that weren’t quite as ready to move as quickly as his determination wished them to.