Haunted Wood I want a million likes

Leshen was a born dissenter.

In fact, he protested his own birth; using his first breath in that pitiless burrow to cry out in admonishment of the cold-bringer, the sac-breaker, his mother. He cried as he was handled, and cried louder still when he was left untouched for even a second. He curled up fitfully as an unseen tongue bathed him clean and rubbed him warm -- he seemed to reject the very notion that he needed it -- and the newborn yielded to no force until a full minute of resisting all the change had left him disabled, like an earthworm lost on concrete.

He was revived by the freeflowing of milk into suckling jaws, but no longer assailed the hearing community with his affronted wails. Instead, once properly fed and nestled in next to a rather familiar lump, Leshen promptly fell asleep.