Golden Glade brush strokes on a canvas of souls

Good news was welcome.  Like seriously, after last year and some of the other recent nonsense, good news was amazing.  He crawled into the den, keeping low and slow with his movements as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.  Raven was easy to spot, but it took a little bit longer to distinguish the three dark forms of their newest pups.  Despite everyone in the den being dark in color, the future seemed very bright right about then.  Even if right now they were barely more than wiggly grub-wolves, he was, needless to say, excited for tomorrow and the day after.

Step number one was to lick Raven's face with that sort of frantic excitement that he was trying to keep from boiling over, whining happily.  Then looking to the trio, then back to her, This is how it's supposed to be, huh?  It certainly felt a lot better on his end of things.  There was no dread or panic, and whether it was from moving away from the metaphorically cursed plateau to somewhere with new memories to feel like it lifted whatever hex was on them or just plain luck... eh.  He was ok with whatever reason as long as things kept continuing this way.  And I've got some food for you outside for whenever you want it. -- Or if you need anything else?  Do you want the older kids to see them yet?  Or wait? Or anything else?  It was a little bit jumbled like he wanted to talk over himself if it were possible.

His tail didn't stop wagging.