Moonspear degrees of light

Funnily, despite being identical to her two darker sisters, Lyra was not at all in sync with them when it came to developing and reaching the milestones of puppyhood. Perhaps they were all different...or maybe it was only she who lagged behind the others.

She had woken with a start, startled by the brightness that assaulted her freshly opened eyes. She blinked them a couple of times, the left opening first before she swiped at her face with an uncoordinated movement of her paws. They both opened then, and the girl froze. Unaware that she was a little late to the whole being able to see business, the pup slowly and unsurely cast her head around, squinting at the blobs of shapes that made up the rest of her sleeping family. They were still entirely foreign to her, at least visually, and she kept her blurry gaze on them for a moment longer before turning to the den mouth — the brightest thing in her vision.

She was almost drawn to it, but instead shivered and began to back-peddle on wobbly legs, beginning her usual chorus of cries for her mother, desperately wanting to be swept away from this new and strange unknown.