Lion Head Mesa are we the sons of seth, and the daughters of cain?

Always in the dark. For Midas it was normal. His life was smells and sounds. Those that were most familiar to him were those of his sister. Which was still a concept to him that wasn't explained. There always seemed to be an 'other' around him, one that behaved like him. One that could mimic his sounds. He felt comfortable. He knew the smell of food. The smells he needed instinctually.

The boy lifted his head when he heard the tones of the other. He knew the place he was, was not endless. It smelled damp, with their scents mixed. He had found out that there were places he couldn't go, where he was stopped for some reason. She came to approach him and called him again. The child pushed himself to his paws. He took a step forward. He turned 90 degrees and then stepped closer.

He had lifted his chin, as it followed along her back against her fur until he was standing next to her. Midas stepped forward a few steps conscious of the fact that there was a point where he would be stopped. His chest was puffed out and tail was up. He took another step forward, his confidence dripping off him. Waaa?