Stavanger Bay off we go to the great beyond

"Brrrrrrr!" exclaimed two-months-old Charon out loud while he stepped out of the den. He wasn't really cold because he had fur to protect himself with, but he knew it was cold outside and that 'brr' was the word associated with that cold. The cool wind blew through his fur and he liked the feeling. Huddles of autumn leaves were gathered all around trees in the forest bordering the clearing that held Ragnar and Thistle's den, and Charon loved to play in them. He was still sad that his parents and brother weren't here and, maybe even moreso, it was a burden on the boy that he needed to try and be cheerful to try and drag his siblings out of their depression over aforementioned too, but Charon tried to make the best of things.

He'd recently developed an interest in hunting everything that moved. Mostly autumn leaves dancing in the wind, though, because he actually managed to catch those and rip them to shreds, and he wasn't very good at catching other things yet.

Ragnar had recently lost half of his eyes and Charon needed to ask him about that sometime because he didn't really understand the full details, but he would, some day.

Today, however, Charon was feeling adventurous. Maybe he would go and hunt something in the forest, or maybe he'd go to the beach all alone even though he knew he was supposed to wait for adults to go places. Well, Charon couldn't sit around waiting for adults to come and escort him, and Ragnar and Thistle were busy wolves, so he decided he'd best not bother them with unimportant stuff like exploring and go on his own. He'd be fine on his own.

Charon cast one last look at the den, considering dragging Liyaní and Levi along, but he wasn't sure they'd be up for it and if he'd get in trouble he'd rather do so alone, anyway.

Feeling like quite the big boy, Charon started to tread deeper into the forest, sort-of hoping this was the way to the beach from what he remembered it to be when he'd visited it with an adult escort before.