just one more time

For @Morgana

At nearly three months of age, Cicero was finally beginning to grasp the concept of words and sentences. He could make some of them, though it became clear to him that he was different soon enough, just like his sister. His brother, well, Damien was like most wolves in Blackfeather Woods; black. His sister was white as snow, however, and he... Well, he was a  mixture of both, with the eye colours to show. Cicero wasn't sure what they meant, though, or if it meant anything at all. He just knew that he wasn't black, like almost all the other wolves in the pack and, for as far as he knew, world. Burke was the only other wolf Cicero had met, that he remembered, who had greytones — though built up more logically and less contrasting than his own — in his fur.

Today the pup had found an ant hill in the depths of the forests, not that far from their den. Cicero was intrigued by the little ants, as he was by everything, and watched with his nose low to the ground as the line of ants waddled by for a while, all the while smiling broadly, like he did most of the time.

Seemingly out of the blue the child lost his patience, after at least ten minutes of intrigued staring at the hard-working ant line. Cicero started to stomp his paws in the middle of the ant trail, giggling loudly while he did so. His "eeeheehee!"'s echoed through the gloomy forest while he stomped across the ants. It didn't take them long, however, to start crawling up through his legs, though Cicero didn't notice this yet while he happily stomped across the ants, creating chaos from their order.