Whitebark Stream Travel light, let the sun eclipse you.
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#1
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"Отец," crooned the boy as he roused, and lifted his raven-tipped crown from atop Juniper's warm shoulders. His large ears twitched at the sound of rainfall above and beyond the den while wide blue eyes scanned the darkness for the ranger's gilded pelage.

Winter parted his jaws in a wide yawn before he gathered to his paws, stepping carelessly over his slumbering siblings. A sleepy growl came from whichever one whose tail he trod on, but he paid no attention as he padded curiously toward the threshold of the leader's family hollow where Artyom looked out beyond.

Pressing his little body against his sire's seated haunch, Winter peered outside. It was raining, heavily, and he could smell the damp earth. "Wha's dis?"
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When a small voice piped up behind him, Artyom canted an ear backward. His head was swift to follow and, in the darkness, he saw movement among his bundle of cubs nestled together at their mother's flank. Hopeful that his youngsters would simply settle again on their own, he maintained his silence.

Alas, his moment of peace was cut short, and the tired father exhaled heavily through his nostrils. Still, he welcomed Winter to him with a soft rumble, and dipped his head to deliver a fond nudge to the boy's sterling brow. "You've seen дождь before," he told the boy, "it feeds the plants for the deer to eat and replenishes the stream, so that we might drink from it."
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Rain. Duh. He knew that, obviously, but why was there so much of it, all at once? Winter stared out at the surface of puddles which rippled and glistened as each raindrop was collected by them, before he turned wide and pleading denim blue eyes toward his father's face.

"We go?" Winter asked, scruffy little tail giving a hopeful wiggle. "Peez?

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#4
Artyom smiled knowingly down at the boy as he studied the rainfall beyond their burrow, fully expecting his son's big puppy eyes to turn toward him with a plea to better investigate. "No, Zima," the father said with gentle firmness, though the sharp glint of his eye communicated that he would stand for no complaint.

"If you go outside in the rain, you will get wet," he explained, as he saw this as a learning opportunity as well as a deterrant, "then you would need to be washed." An arch of his brow then; no kid ever, ever willingly wanted to be groomed, right?

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At a firm no, Winter's dark ears folded back. His eyes began to water in an attempt to appear wounded by the rejection so that he might sway his father's decision. 

He furrowed his brow, however, at the adult's perfectly reasonable explanation as to why they couldn't play outside. Reluctant to admit defeat, the boy huffed an exaggerated sigh and slumped down onto his belly, chin atop his paws as he stared longingly out into the miserable darkness beyond the den.

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#6
"Besides," the gilded Alpha carried on as he noticed his son's deflation, "you should be in bed." Artyom lowered himself beside the boy, earthen gaze sweeping over his peppered dorsal. The pups had grown considerably in the past few weeks, but they still seemed still so little.

If only they could stay this small forever.

The leader smiled softly, blinking briefly over a shoulder to be sure that their voices had not woken Dawn or the other youngsters. "I guess you could stay up with me a little longer though," he bumped his nose playfully to the top of Winter's crown, "we will just stay quiet so we don't wake your матушка, alright?"
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He brightened a little at his father's compromise, though did not turn his gaze away from the rainfall in the clearing beyond their den. Instead, he acknowledged it with the happy swishing of his scruffy little tail.

"Morrow?" Winter asked at last, voice hushed at his golden-furred parent's request to avoid rousing their snoozing family. "We go morrow, Отец?" Only then did the ashen youngster lift his head to blink expectantly upward and seek Artyom's earthen eyes.
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Artyom took a moment to ponder over his little son's request, and looked out toward the downpour. The grim, ashen sky showed to sign of dissipating anytime soon, though he hoped it would clear through the night to come. "Perhaps," he answered, unwilling to make promises.

Earthen gaze lopoked down at the pup again, knowing this was not the vow he hoped to hear and was likely be disappointed. "If you are especially good tonight, maybe Мать Знатура will stop the rain long enough so that we can play outside when morning comes," the Alpha elaborated with a hopeful smile, one of quiet encouragement.

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The possibility of an adventure outside was enough to soothe Winter's disappointment. It wasn't quite a promise from his father as the boy was too young to fully understand, but the consideration heightened his anticipation. He smiled brightly at his gilded parent, sure to remember when dawn broke.

"Okay," the sterling cub beamed up at his sire, and leaned in close so he could press his flank to a warm shoulder. "Why you no sleep?" Winter asked, feeling the weight of his own eyelids yet too curious and stubborn to allow himself to doze.

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#10
"I'm not tired," the Alpha answered softly, too late - his little son was sure to present this as a valid excuse when tomorrow's bed time rolled around. Some days were easier than others when it came to settling the cubs for the night.

Artyom settled his muzzle on an extended forelimb, and smiled knowingly as the boy fought sleep. "How about I tell you a story?"