Blackfeather Woods asinnepuk

The words that fell against his small frame were only vibrations to him. Nothing could be heard, and nothing could be seen by the youthful bear. All that was known was the lack of warmth that had vanished when he had stretched himself too far from his mother’s reach. There seemed to be a breathlessness to his actions. Blindly, the young bear reached out his neck and sought the warmth of the stranger; if she had saved him from the frightening experience of a youthful death, then it was likely that she had good intentions throughout. The polar wolf could not help himself as well as he would have liked to. Sos found that the earth beneath him was growing colder, but he remained steadfast and stoic in this realization. For all that it was, he had done it to himself.
 
Another squeak chimed through the den. Sos parted his lips and his wobbly head bobbed about for a moment or two before it grew too heavy for him and he rested it against the ground. The gentle coaxing was enough for him to peddle his limbs some, waddling his way closer and closer until he could drink in the scent of his mother and he felt a breath of relief wash away the fear that had been there before.
 
As though she knew, Shivali craned her skull to grace his small frame with a nudge. The touch of her nose against his thin coat sent a shiver down his frame and he peeped in delighted surprise. The heat was returning to his frame and showering him in a sense of comfort once more. The helpful stranger had not been forgotten, though. Sos turned his head in the direction he imagined he had come from and he searched in the darkness for signs of the other. He knew nothing of guardians or even of angels, but he would have imagined that the helpful guiding had been from something of a caring spirit.