Observant, always, and endlessly so. It is the way he has always been; his eyes see more, he thinks, than many others for they must. The sky is not just the sky and the leaves are not just the leaves - it is these realization that have shaped his growing experience. Just as he has noticed his mother's trimmer appearance, he has noticed his siblings growth too. He sees Luk and the way he moves, free from fear or uncertainty. It is a way of movement more alike to Tuari, he thinks, but even more so like his parents. His own sense of fearlessness had been learnt and never instinctive. Though he saw it all, even he knew something was apparently missing within himself. What it was, he did not know but it did not matter. What did matter was that his younger brother, Jinan, seemed to miss it too.

And so, like each morning before, he awakes early to witness the golden light breaking over the land from the east. He watches and he admires, but his thoughts soon move to his siblings and his prior den. Some time ago, he had moved out to his own home though it remained so very close to his mother's own. After all, he does not believe he will ever be able to completely disconnect from she whose very heart beat he knew from the beginning.

Moving down the hillside (his favorite, of course), he seemed to be almost outlined by the breaking sun, the golden light sticking to the chocolate of his fur. Truly, the mornings were his domain; he moves with an utmost ease across the landscape, his paws all too used to the very feel of the earth beneath them. The earth is warmer now, bringing with it tidings of a summer for which he cannot wait; in summer, the world is even more beautiful with its crackling air and tremendous storms. With those in mind, he breathes in a deep breath of fresh air, his lips peeled back in a joyous grin as he lets forth a most unusual sound. It is a learned sound, one that begs to turn into a howl and yet it sputters and waves, an unusual yodel of mismatched frequencies and melodies. It is one he only feels in his throat and never one he will hear; his family, however, should know the sound so very well.

As his eyes fall back to the earth, he is quick to find a smaller boy outside his mother's den. It takes a moment, or two perhaps, for him to notice the distinct coloration of the boy and the distinguishable way he moves. Jinan, he thinks, is his brother in more than one way.

Still at a distance, he pauses for a moment, catching the light to better illuminate himself against the backdrop of shadowed trees and hillside. His tail moves behind him, a slow constant wave, as he aims to meet his younger sibling's eyes. He knows these things, how to approach others like himself. It is a slow going process, perhaps, but he will wait for his brother to see him. He will wait for he knows that he, too, is missing that part of himself. Whatever it may be.