Luneshale Pass In a river,

As softly as she spoke, his approach was enough to hear her. Still too young, words were caught in his throat. Unable to form a sentence, only babbled sounds formed from pieces of words he had heard from his mother - though even then it sounded a bit strange.

Sun shining above, his fur warm, confidence was growing within the boy today. Though unbeknownst to him, the skin beneath his fur was slowly growing red and burnt. His mother had barked his name from within the den.