Blackfeather Woods Bring your secrets to me

The squawking of migrating geese over the forest echoes into the birthing chamber. Though his ears are muffled and filled with a watery hollowness, they stir atop his head in response to this faint and faraway echo. He barely makes out the sound, but it's enough to prompt the raising of his head. His eyes, brilliant baby blues, blink open. He stares at the blurry shadows opposite him while his ears, lengthening now as he begins to grow out of his awkward potato-like phase, work furiously over the top of his head.

The sound doesn't come again, and Pietro is left to wonder at it. His young mind can't yet comprehend the sound or pinpoint its direction, but still it churns rapidly, so provoked by this stimulus is he. His expression is almost pensive, but he doesn't truly think about what he's heard, nor that his legs gather under his curiosity and hoist him into a shaky stand.