Honeyed Pasture liriodendron tulipifera

tag for reference! @Aditya

Light was a new and exciting development in Waxwing's world. It trickled into his eyeballs, reflected there, and shot electricity into his brain that desperately tried to interpret it. The images were still blurry and confusing, but he had started to recognize a few things.

One: mother. She was the source of all things warmth, bathing, and food. He liked her a lot.

Two: father. This appeared to be a slightly less-useful version of mother. He could not provide food, but he did provide warmth and baths.

Three: sister. She was in the way much of the time, but he could usually push her around enough to get what he wanted (see: one—mother).

Presently, Waxwing was half-walking, half-crawling his way to the mouth of the den, the source of light and newness.