It is the sounds of childish laughter and squeals of delight that so rouse that black and white boy from his sleep- dark shoulder flecked with red shifting as he wakes, red tainted muzzle and forehead lifted upward before those mismatched eyes of yellow and blue all flecked with silver are given to flicker open. For a moment the world is blurred in the haze of sleep, yet he is unconcerned, head shaken slightly to clear his vision as he detangles himself from his sleeping sister, Astraea and ambles towards the mouth of the family den atop white paws. He is the smallest of his family by far, black and red head peaking from within the mouth of the den, assuring all was well before he allowed himself to proceed, loping out and towards the sounds of his siblings. Mismatched gaze fell upon his brother as Vortigern leap atop the patches of light Asariel had been collecting, a habit his sister seemed to hold though Tzadkiel offered no words on such a thing as he wandered closer in his silent observation.

He is, as ever, wholly unobtrusive, entering quietly to wander towards an old tree stump still bathed in the shadows of the retreating night, paws lifted upward to just grasp the edge as he leapt- terribly small form struggling in this moment and yet he makes no cry for help, offers no grunt or groan, merely continues his silent struggle with a determination renewed as hind legs scrabble and claws scrape, forelegs hauling upwards until he pulls himself atop the stump and seats himself at last. If there is pride in his victory it remains unseen, no more then the softest of smiles given to pass his lips and a single wave of that grey and black tail offered before it curls quickly about his long limbs, oversized upon his small body perhaps though he hardly seems to notice. For surely he is small and yet- he is perfectly formed, lacking only the height of his blood and no else. He is pleased in his achievement, for this is the first day he has made it atop the stump without tumbling to the earth. Mother and Father have offered their assistance on many an occasion and yet each attempt to intervene in his goal is simply met with a gentle smile and the sweet softness of his boyish voice that assures them each time ‘No- I will do it Mother. No Father, I do not need your help, not today. Today is not my day.’ Each word is spoken softly, kindly and little else, head nodded until it is they leave him to stare upward and towards this tree stump alone in wonderment of what he might one day achieve. Today it would seem- is his day.

Yet such is the nature of the boy he draws no attention to himself, merely basks in this glow of success on a more personal level- for surely his achievements do not mean as such to his siblings, nor does he mean them too. He is selfless in his existence, quiet and yet it would be wrong most assuredly to believe the boy nervous or unsure- for he is neither. His confidence is merely introverted, for he is unboastful, he knows of that which he is and that which he will be and as such sees no need to barrage others with his words. For Tzadkiel is the quiet one perhaps, given more to thought then action and yet he is seemingly content in this- as he is now, lowering himself to recline atop his little seat until he lays right upon his back, head hanging over the edge and upside down as he views his siblings before him from this new angle- white underside clear as he does. Watching with ever gentle features upturned in a grin, his voice so softly spoken within the confines of the forest clearing.

“I would like to know their names too.”

He does not truly believe they are beings, nor that light can possess a name for he is….less imaginative then his siblings perhaps- he simply does not take such stories to heart nor allow his mind to wander into the realms of what is imagined and yet- he sees no need to dispel their beliefs nor ruin their game, indulging them readily within it even if he sees only light patterned upon the earth and no such magical beings. For what harm can come from letting them play their game? He does not need to believe it to enjoy it. Some are simply born….free of judgement and harshness, another lopsided grin given to trace his features as he watches on.