Dawnlark Plains and she's buying a stairway to heaven

@Radcliffe @Meadow @Padma

"Daddeeeeeee!" cried out Timberlake, his little brown stump of a tail wagging furiously as he charged out of the den to Shale, inches away from nipping at his ankles. The father in question laughed, rolling down onto his side and covering the boy in loving licks, eyes creased with joy. Timberlake's still-blue gaze blinked happily back, eyelids drooping as he gave into the warm caresses.

They were growing like weeds, getting bigger and taller every day. They had changed from brown and gray lumps without much personality to a quartet of individual souls, each with their own quirks and talents. Shale loved them all; even if you were to press him for a favorite, and swear you'd never tell a soul, he would never be able to come up with the answer. They were perfect, all four. They were his.

"Staying out of trouble?" he asked Timberlake, looking in mock sternness at the boy, who merely giggled, flopping over. Normally fairly stoic--he reminded Shale of Grayday, when they were this age--Timberlake had a case of the giggles today, and it made chuckles bubble up in Shale's own throat. Father and son laughed together for a while, over everything and nothing all at once.

All the while, his eyes strayed to the mouth of the den, hoping the others would take their guffaws as a cue to come out and play, as well.