Arrow Lake fighting her own battles

first steps and some light babbling thread. open to anyone. :-) fast-forwarded to: june 1st-ish.

rain fell like a soft, light symphony outside the mouth of the den, the peek of the world outside that praimfaya could get wasn't totally grey but it wasn't sunny either and she lets out a 'hmph' and turns back to face blodreina and the leftovers of breakfast where she'd left it half eaten. she wants to venture outside the birthing den, to see the world outside these earthen walls ...but her immobility and vulnerability made that impossible. though she hadn't yet started speaking and there were many concepts her parents spoke of that she couldn't grasp, praimfaya was beginning to grow an awareness of some concepts and words. she understands that praimfaya ( despite that her hearing still isn't at it's peak yet ) means her; as well as that word, the one that she feels in the marrow of her bones, that sends chills down her spine when she hears blodreina speak it, even as muddied as her hearing still is. wanheda. she doesn't know what it means to her, or to the others who call her by it but there is an archaic sense that it is important. powerful.

she thinks of army crawling her way back to blodreina, to finish her breakfast but instead pushes herself into a sitting position with some effort. she watches her mother with a half-lidded expression as blodreina shifts and the pair — mother and daughter — fix each other in a level stare both anticipating something from the other. komba raun, praimfaya. comes blodreina's encouraging tone. praimfaya's black, leathery nostrils flare and she lifts her head imperiously, letting out a small yawn but otherwise content to stay seated despite the pressure to do otherwise.

go to her, commander. a toothy quirk of praimfaya's lips is given as she pushes herself onto all four of her paws, swaying a little as she figures out how to settle her weight evenly. she is patient with herself, even as she takes a step and her legs tremble and threaten to give out on her. still, she persists, clumsily making her way back to blodreina, pressing against her nomon for support when she teeters on her feet again.

the girl stumbles across the mother and daughter pair entirely by mistake. she is not fond of the rain that falls lightly, knowing well how quickly it may turn into the same kind of downpour she found herself in some nights ago. the den provides a welcome escape, smelling of warmth and milk and all things familiar and yet strange. whatever her original intent was in straying from the rendezvous is forgotten, and her ears, large and ungainly atop her crown, press towards the pair. she is altogether shocked that there exists so near another pup like her. ignorant of, or perhaps merely ignoring, typical courtesy she beelines for the girl, nares flaring as she takes in her scent and finds it foreign. 

she pauses a short distance away, fast-fading blue gaze catching on the girl's mother before dropping to praimfaya. "hi, hi," she offers, quick, staccato. her paw lifts, pauses, and lowers. "brother? yes?" she's yet to learn that the word pertains only to male siblings, but frankly, she's desperate for another playmate. her's eats dirt and doesn't always lose when they fight.

praimfaya, focuses upon blodreina as the wanlida looks at her both encouragingly and expectantly, murmuring a quieter kom — but blodreina never got to finish her reiteration for the sound of clumsy paws pitter-patter on the earth and in a manner that is similar to dragomir's barges into the den but unlike her brother makes a beeline for the wanheda herself. with the abrupt interruption and the mini pale slyph's sudden appearance praimfaya recoils back, startled. hi, hi. for a moment, praimfaya looks beyond isilmë, to blodreina whom doesn't seem all that concerned despite that she keeps a hawkish eye on the two girls all the same; though younger than aure's cubs praimfaya is growing daily and unfortunately for dragomir much more sturdy than she'd been when he'd ( first ) visited.

she would get no help from the wanlida and so, the wanheda looks back to the newcomer with an expression that is a mixture of curiosity and unfettered indignation. brother? yes? though praimfaya is starting to understand basic words she hasn't yet tried to repeat any. no, blodreina replies with a soft chuckle. this is praimfaya. she is not a brother. the geist corrects isilmë softly.

praimfaya breaks her silence by babbling out something that was supposed to mean: i am the wanheda. the sounds to make words were there but what tumbles from her mouth is nothing more than cub nonsense.