The children were growing and as such he was constantly stuck expanding what little space they had but by now all he really could do was dig down. And that did nothing for space except make it harder to get in and out or get rolled on by Vortigern in one of his belly splays, limbs askew and pouncing dreams. Zaphkiel grimaces at the memory; for such a youth the boy sure did have some strong legs, about knocking out some of his teeth! Soon they would have to make a new den close by, one that the children could sleep in should they wish it and his one good eye was already eying a perfectly good spot with supple dirt just screaming 'dig me!' He would bring the notion up to Astrid again later since it hadn't quite got any traction during the birthing but maybe now that she was being stepped on, laid on, and generally cramped she would come around to such an idea. A mischievous smile crosses his dark maw as he finishes some of the final touches of digging, with the help of little Vortigern whose paws were now covered in thick clods of dirt.

What really causes him to stop, though, is the sudden lovely howl that demands attention. There is only one wolf - well more, but she is the MOST demanding - who would call with such a tone. Celeste. His eye widens, ears flicking forward and backward as his son bounds to the exit of the den with an intense look on his face. "Dad, I think Astraea already went." He had thought he had spied a dark figure running in that direction and that made him anxious for Vortigern always had an innate sense of where his sisters and brother were. Always was he concerned with their whereabouts and whether they were okay or needed his help, but generally he just loved them. "Then I suppose we must get on with it," Zaphkiel says but flashes a toothy grin, more devilish than anything, as he watches the dirt-covered paws of his son start racing in the direction of his sister. His own paws are the mirror of the child's and it serves to heighten his mood - oh what Celeste would say!

He barks, once, twice, to call for both Astrid, Tzadkiel, and Asariel (as he doesn't know she is already there tucked away) before trotting after his son but maintaining that positively roguish grin, eye twinkling. Vortigern flies with dirt pieces dropping off him and catching in his chest fur as it flies up until he spies a brilliantly white wolf with flecks and his sisters. His aunt was turned away and wagging her tail as if she had something amazing going on with it and his eyes squint as he looks for... something. A butterfly on the end? What was she doing?

"Celeste, about time you got out of your palace," Zaphkiel calls from behind them as he ambles closer, ears at half mast and eyes hooded in what was about to be a glorious display, he was certain. "Oh, you are our aunt," Vortigern states suddenly, grinning as he brushes past his sisters with gentle reassurance before coming right up beneath her to lick beneath her jaw and subsequently placing his dirty paws right on top of her white ones if she isn't quick. "I'm Vortigern!"