Shadewood wing heart

there is no way yet for c’ede’ to grasp the future that sits upon gray, charcoal flecked shoulders.
he doesn’t know what it means to have been abandoned. to have been forgotten, left behind. he only knows the strength of his father. the press of black fur, the strength in icy eye, and the pain beheld in one no longer there.
he has grown alongside those he thinks are his littermates. he doesn’t remember the touch of trueborn, the scent of his first mother, his first siblings. he knows the violent fight for life at the underbelly of a powerful woman. he knows the rough play and bicker amongst other pups; his siblings—but he is not with them always before being whisked away by his father.
his father doesn’t take the other ones like he does him. c’ede’ is too young to truly notice this, he only knows it in the feel of their absence.
now his eyes are watchful, his ears that had toppled to a point perked. he is a truly attentive pup, gazing as if mesmerized upon the swathe of caribou hide as it melds upon sand. and the sea ahead glitters, currents splashing in the distance upon the shore. the lanzadoii child hears the water call. and there is sand beneath his paws, something that shouldn’t belong but feels natural. the heir topples forwards between strong black legs of his father, pouncing upon the hide.
he hears his father speak and knows the words are important. his response is a mighty puppy growl and head bumping into coarse black fur of his leg, teeth going to gnaw. tugging. trying to incite play with the chieftain. his father.