Honeyed Pasture go chase the safety, not the rush

at three months old, akkuma was just beginning to understand the concept of adulthood. it had started with his name, truly. that had been his first hint that it was time to look to his parents and see guidance for his own future, rather than mere caregivers. he didn't understand the concept as a conscious thought, really; it came more as instinct, a wordless impulse to seek knowledge and independence.
the stoicism and strange seriousness the boy was afflicted with was unfortunately far more inherent. still, he was only a child, and so it was with big eyes and an air of innocence to his solemnity that akkuma sought @Sakhmet.
mom, what does it mean when things die? he asked with some hesitation, for it had been on his mind for a long time and the topic seemed somehow taboo. he knew that prey died, that wolves killed these animals for food. and he knew, instinctively, that wolves could die too. it seemed permanent to him. their prey had never once come back from death. but maybe it was different for wolves? he had to know.

Her sons had blossomed, two different kinds of flowers. Kivaluk seemed to be more in line with his father and Akkuma, well, she saw plenty of herself in those shifting moon eyes. It was easy to see the hardship of her own youth in the thoughtful glimpses of his face.

She had not been prepared for this question so soon though.

Softly, she sought to bring him closer and walk with him away from those who might be lingering still. Well...it means their time here is done, but it does not necessarily mean it has to be done everywhere. A slow start, but certainly one that might raise more questions.