Stavanger Bay Life happened.

It had been a long journey, but he had finally arrived. He came to life ready to fight whatever demons and dragons needed fighting but, in lack of the aforementioned, Charon enjoyed a bath instead. Not that he wouldn’t have been able to free himself from the goo that encased him at his birthing moment, of course. As he wriggled himself to the place of food – the nudges helped, of course, a little, maybe – and found a teat to suck on. Charon breathed in the scent of the one who had cleaned him, identifying her as his mother and knowing that she was important to his life.

Soon Charon was forced to share the food with his siblings, though he did not let go of his particular space of belly and milk.

After a while, another wolf appeared to disturb the peace, but Charon paid him little mind, for the appearance of this stranger did not seem to disturb the peace, and therefore, he was not truly a stranger. Charon did not sense unease, sensed very little but the delightful warmth that surrounded him and the softness of his mother and his siblings. He was where he was supposed to be, at peace, and ready for the adventure of life.