Stavanger Bay I don't know how I feel anymore

At three months of age, Charon was growing rapidly. His appearance had changed a lot over the past month — from a pudgy pup to a lanky slightly-older-pup — while his mind had gone through a rollercoaster of emotions. He had lost two thirds of his family already in his short life. Other than that, Charon was a fairly normal pup: he loved to ask questions and investigate things he didn't know or understand, and he loved making up stories about the stars in the sky or nonexistant creatures or even adventures he hadn't really been on, but told anyway because they made him sound super cool.

The borders were a fascinating thing to Charon; perhaps because he figured that whatever was out there, it was where his family had been abducted to, considering they weren't in the pack any longer. Charon liked going there, even if it was a little scary too (he was afraid he, too, might get taken by the mighty out-there-place).

When Charon had been lurking around the outskirts of the pack, but not quite at its very edges yet, he noticed Gunnar. Charon approached Ragnar and Thistle's son, his body straightened perhaps a little too proudly for his company (for while Gunnar was older than him, he wasn't super old like Ragnar and Thistle and if there'd be any Others at the borders like the other day, well, Charon would want to make sure they knew he was Super Awesome), and shouted, "Hi!" when he got into earshot, to make sure that Gunnar wouldn't be caught off-guard by his approach.