Qeya River icarus should have waited for nightfall

attuaserk's life thus far, despite his war rendering birth with his mighty war cries, was built upon the familiarity of routine. he slumbers in the oil slick colors of the darkness he knows, nestling against the warmth of his mother and the press of malrok's side, with the heady heat of the other, he who would be known to him soon enough as father. when he is not slumbering, he nurses and occasionally gums at his paw or ( if he can reach it ) malrok's ear.

he gums on his own paw presently, suckling on his toes; a vague awareness of the slick of slobber wetting his fur.