Sawtooth Spire pay attention

I need threads with just about everybody, but if this could be limited to two other characters, I'd appreciate it. ^__^

Much and more had changed in the past few weeks. Malrok's limbs grew, right along with his vocabulary. He picked up on language with ease, as it seemed he would turn into the intellectual sort. Already, Malrok had begun to amass a rather impressive vocabulary of both Tartok's language and the common one. He was a bright, eager pupil, even if he occasionally got a little bit annoying.

Malrok was also eating more and more meat on his own. When a leg of deer or some other creature was brought back, he and his brothers would tear into it. Malrok, with reckless abandon. He grew and grew, his white coat making him stand out amongst his entire family. That, of course, was something he had noticed. In fact, he fully intended to ask one of his elders about it today. For now, though, he sat just outside the den, enjoying the cooler weather.

-snatches-

The pups were growing up so fast. A small bit of pride always swelled within his chest upon thinking of them and more so when he was able to spend time with each one of them and get a better feel for their still developing personalities. Ata was bold. Ping was particular. Sita was cautious. It was Malrok who remained a bit of a mystery so when the opportunity presented itself he was determined to steal the child away for a little more one on one time.

The children were slowly shifting over to solid food. The den site was littered with bones here and there. If one wasn't aware of the pups inside, they might have mistaken it for the scene of a crime. All the same, it was become a bit too cluttered in the already too small den. They were outgrowing a lot of things, but until Tonravik and himself were ready to move the pups, it would have to continue to be their space.

Iqniq picked up a stray rib between his teeth and lobbed it, tossing the bone to land at Malrok's feet as he lingered outside the den. A quick yip followed and shortly there after Iqniq chucked another bone in the same direction. If he kept this up, there'd be a fine bone pile... and where there was a fine bone pile, there was room to clean up and add their additions back to the pukulria.

She saw the same thing her mate did. The boys grew by the day. And the size of their paws betrayed that they would share similar statures with their parents—it was fortunate that was not presently the case—and Tonravik knew that she and her mate both pushed the time allowed for cubs staying in their whelping den. Tonravik could abide to her instinct in the search, but with no place found yet satisfying her desire for their rendezvous site (nor her mate) they had yet to leave the rocky chasm that the boys were born in.

They would, in any case. It had taken long enough, and so now there was no doubt they'd happen upon a good place soon.

Tonravik returned to the den where her mate currently lingered with the cubs. One cub in particular loitering at the entrance caught her attention. An ear flicked as she observed her for a moment. He was growing whiter by the day, it appeared, which was an unexpected transition. But not one she questioned. Cubs could come in any color. One looked like a fox. It meant little to nothing to her. What mattered was that he was alive and well.

She came bearing snacks. Beneath her jaws swung some (three) plump hares she had chased for an extensive amount of time for the chase alone. Tonravik stunk of sweat, betraying just how long she had let the hares run from her. It was no real challenge... but Tonravik enjoyed herself, sprinting up the steep slopes, bounding from rock to rock, outmaneuvering the creature with all she learned from her time here thus far... and even learning some things from the doomed, long-eared things. Tonravik dropped them unceremoniously to the earth before licking her bloody chops. She hadn't been hungry at the time. She brought the food for her cubs, and if her mate was hungry, he could take one himself. She noted the bone pile and made like a bee to a flower it had yet to claim, aiming to grab one to gnaw.

A bone was tossed at him, breaking Malrok's (decidedly small) train of thought. He blinked, then grinned at his father. If there was a time when Iqniq had not been around, Malrok had already forgotten about it. His young mind had taken to his father easily, and he barely remembered his first few weeks of life. Tonravik was, of course, an important piece of the family puzzle, but Malrok had found that he liked spending time with his father moreso than his more reserved, quiet mother.

But Malrok wasn't interested in bones. Not just yet, anyway. He remained pensive and thoughtful, perking up when Tonravik came into view with three hares. Again, this was not what little Malrok sought. He was hungry for something else. "Mother," he spoke in their tongue. Not the common one, which he rarely used. "Why I white?" he asked, though he wondered if the question was better suited for Father. Mother didn't like answering useless questions… but Malrok was still figuring out which ones were less useful.

Their time of housekeeping would have to be delayed until later. With Tonravik's arrival of food they would soon be adding to the mess they already had. He might have distracted Malrok with the clattering bone for a second, but her entrance required a great deal more attention. Food. His own interests were distracted by the opportunity those hares presented, but they were her kills to distribute as she so chose.

She dropped them, instead more interested in the ever growing pile of bones that was accumulating at the whelping den. Iqniq lingered. This scenario presented an interesting opportunity for all of them. Tonravik was more focused on bones which suggested she was not interested in eating. Malrok had a choice between food and bones as well. Something of a fly on the wall at this moment, Iqniq remained where he was and waited for someone's next move.

Malrok spoke. Oh. Now this would be interesting.

A spectator in this, as the question was asked of Tonravik and not him, Iqniq moved to take one of the rabbits from the pile. He settled on the ground with it as he feigned disinterest and began to consume the hare akin to the way one might devour popcorn at a movie. he tired to keep the amusement out of his features as he did so. He was ever so curious as to how his mate might try to explain this one. She was not a wolf of words or unimportant things. This question was a bit of both.

None intervened with her own plan, and so she propped a bone atop her broad paw and began to gnaw. Even as her son regarded her, she did not stop chewing. An ear cupped toward him, but her eyes were pressed into a squinted close. The question he asked was not one she knew how to answer, truth be told. No tongue could explain to him what she did not know herself.

Instead, Tonravik looked toward his father and her mate, removing herself from the bone and taking the question seriously. The fiery father of four seemed to be enjoying the snack, not invested in the conversation itself. The mother bear knew this not to be true; Iqniq was invested in every aspect of their lives, big or small.

"The same reason I am black, and your father is red," She retorted, before finishing her explanation in a manner she found to be both true and appropriate: "We simply are. It just is." Tonravik thought nothing of the color. Despite her brothers all being as dark as she, it was never something she herself questioned. Her own younger brother, Nunataq, was as white as their second-born. "It will suit you in the Winter." Tonravik, satisfied with her own response, resumed gnawing on her bone. If her mate had any input, she was sure he would add onto it. Truthfully, colors of ones fur was not something she thought much of except for advantages and disadvantages. A wolf learned, as her cubs would, what they were... but she was pleased, this once, to offer him some insight.

*flail*

Mother explained, and though it was not the most intellectual or informed answer, Malrok had know way of knowing as much. She did, however, offer him an insight into a new concept: winter. "Winter?" he repeated, tilting his head to one side like he had done so many times before. It was a word he had surely heard at one time or another, but he had never paid any attention to it. Today, though it sounded important to him in particular. He was somehow associated with it. It "suited" him—whatever that meant.

"What’s a "suited"?" he inquired further. He soaked up information left and right, and he wasn't about to stop anytime soon. Each new word meant expanding that little brain of his, something he was driven to do from day one.