Lost Creek Hollow i've known mornings white as diamonds

His world was still small but bit by bit, the dark brown pup grew to occupy more of it. His appetite was good, maybe borderline greedy at times, and his growing body responded accordingly to the comforting embrace of the good life. His legs were longer, his body rounder, and head quite little bit steadier.

Silas' eyes had opened not all that long ago. His eyes were characteristically milky blue and day by day, his vision cleared up and he could distinguish things better. His sense of smell had bettered already, and he could hear somewhat now as well. All this combined had led him towards a gradually growing interest in the den's entrance that seemed only natural. By this point, it was something he did not quite grasp yet -- just that when others passed through that threshold, new foreign stimuli seemed to ride in with them, all of which he knew nothing about.

He was not overly ambitious in his pursuit of mischief, so only when he was struck with the right motivation, the pudgy puppy picked himself up and began to toddle that way. After a morning of light snow, all he could see was blinding whiteness. His approach was slow yet determined for now.

For all the stress that bore down upon him, Mordecai managed to shed the majority of it by the time he returned to the quaint little den that he shared with Harlyn. While her own comings and goings may have begun to pick up, he knew that she was far from ready to fully return to the so-called daily grind. He did not burden her with the thoughts that coursed his mind on an increasing basis and rather reveled in the fact that for a time, at least for now, his children were too small to understand let alone worry over the dangers that lied outside of their relatively safe home.

And on a day such as the one he was presently in, Mordecai also reveled in dipping in and out of sleep. In spite of all that troubled him, he found that he still delved easily into such simple pockets as rest, though questionably one could have wondered if he truly rested at all. He believed he did, but each day felt as exhausting as the last and at times, perhaps overstimulating. But if there was one thing that he could not help and stir to was the faintest of sounds — the shuffle of feet still too young to entirely know the way out.

He cracked his one good eye open for a moment, fighting against the fluttering motion of sleep that still dared to take a hold of him just enough to catch Silas toddling along. The puppies grew more noticeably and as he had found, their ability to see their world only rocketed them forward in their growth. His head bobbed as he righted himself, stretched in a failing attempt to distract his son who had already long passed his father. It left Mordecai to rise ever so slightly, sneaking along the floor and sweeping his muzzle to direct him elsewhere.

In his little bubble that extended no further than the walls of the den, he had no idea of what went on beyond. The good, the bad, and the ugly all together.. when it came to anything extending beyond his needs, his parents, and two siblings, there was just blank space. He was beginning to sense that there was something.. but, it didn't concern him yet.

And of course, ignorance is bliss. He doesn't even know to be grateful for how good he has it here.

Before he even makes significant progress on the closest thing to a goal, he slows himself down significantly. The blinding white hurts his new eyes.. he grumbles, feeling motivation wane incredibly in light of this new discovery. But before he bottoms out, he finds a distraction far easier on the eyes: his father's nose and the motion accompanying it, apparently meant to redirect him. He tries to turn towards the muzzle and stumbles awkwardly on himself instead. Silas chirrups happily at the attention anyway, even if he is momentarily reduced to the grace of an overturned beetle.

His attempt to direct Silas seemed to work, though only as a distraction. The boy wasn't so sure on his feet yet and that too brought a thin smile to his father's face. Funny to think that they had all been that small, and docile. "Not today, kiddo," he murmured, only to swoop in and gather his son away from the lead up to the mouth of the den. It was a gentle grasp, only firm enough to ensure his grasp on him as he turned away and back towards the others. There, Mordecai was not hesitant to set him down and lounge himself, keeping the growing boy between his long forelegs.

y so cute silas yyy

he tries

He was pleased to be moving around at all, even if it was sloppy and mostly him blundering around. Day by day he got a little better and a bit more mobile, so as long as he kept up good progress, he was happy. Soon, he may not be quite so easy to keep contained. Not once his motor skills improved and his interest in leaving the den's confines honed into something far more refined.

When readjusted between the forelimbs of his father, he grunted at first until he settled. Hearing his complaints (after Mordecai's words earlier) happened to remind him of his newfound ears, so Silas couldn't help but give himself more to listen to. "Ooooghhh," he announced with a big huff before slowly headbutting the nearest leg.

And just as he suspected, Silas had his own complaints to announce. That was one thing that had come quickly on the heels of them gaining sight and hearing — more sound. Only this time to him it seemed there may have been the slightest gesture towards articulation that hadn't been there before, and it captured his attention more than swiftly. He huffed with amusement, parrying the headbutting with a soft nudge against the boy's side.

"Are you trying to tell me off?" he asked, though a grin had long come to settle on his face. "You need teeth for that." It amused him far more than it should have, maybe, that his simple response to keep Silas from going out into snow just as deep as he was tall that he would be told how unfair he was being. At least that was how he was willing to take it.

Not knowing the comparative might he would one day grow into was probably just for the best. For now, this was all he could offer with his physical limitations and it was still mostly intent gumming and little nudges against a force far, far greater than his own. But, having no sense that this was just a drop in the world's great big bucket, he still derived his own primitive delight from it -- even when he was nudged in return. That just seemed to encourage him.

Silas leaned back, then attempted the headbutt again. This time, he tried his vocal chords on a small growl meant to sound oh-so-mighty, but it barely gurgled past his lips with any real distinction in the sound. Then, instead of pressing forward more, he just let himself roll off the momentum and essentially drizzled down his father's leg towards his paws, trail of puppy slobber included.

He continued on until he tired himself out. It was then that the dark brown puppy simply petered off and went still after slowing considerably (not that he'd ever been fast). He snoozed comfortably, and would likely be placed back alongside his littermates for a more proper nap.