Swiftcurrent Creek smells like teen spirit

Here come the crazy 90's thread titles! Bahaha. I won't apologize for this.

At two weeks to the day, the bright blues of Akavir’s eyes had opened fully. The world was fuzzy – indiscernible often times, and the dark whelp focused primarily on the comfort of his mother’s embrace, the warmth of his siblings own rowdy and squirming forms, and the sweetness of milk. Still, there was an innate desire now to press past some of these, and the boy would often times be practicing on his legs, trying to push himself up to a stand. Of course, wobbly as he was, Akavir would often times plunk firmly back down to the ground after only a few shaky seconds – that was, until, he began to take a few hesitant steps.
 
It was an awakening of freedom – though it came only in the form of needing to determine what this meant. And so the boy began to toddle toward the entrance of the den, the brightness of morning seeping through coaxing him, given his vision remained poor for now.