Days and weeks and months had passed him by without much notice. The one thing I did notice was the fact that my mother had been rather non-existent as of late. I desired for the milk that she produced, my young belly needing the nutrition to further my growth and development. But her scent was fading with the passing days as the end of spring came about and I was forced to lap up regurgitated remains that father had come bearing. I didn’t dislike it, I only knew that milk was what I had been raised on my entire life until now, and so this mushy, red stuff was alien to me.

Days seemed to pass like years to my young mind and so I do not recall when it was that I had last seen my mother. Perhaps it had only been a day or so, a few hours? There was no way for me to really know. All that I am aware of is that I have our cave all to myself now and I quite like the space; not to mention I am not being pushed and rolled around by her too-big paws any more. She almost rolled over onto me once, you know. It’s like she didn’t even know I was there any more.

The darkness of the stone den was a comfort I had become accustomed to; though now the temptation to be among the others in the light of day was becoming more appealing as time passed. I did not realize she was there, my older sister that is, until her voice called softly into the confines of the shadows that were my home. She beckons me out from my abyss with promises of exploration, causing my ears to perk upward for a moment. I had always been kept alone to be with mother or father, never siblings or half-siblings, and so this opportunity appeared to be a rarity.

I watched her silhouette in the entrance of the cave, her ears standing tall and broad atop her head in a shadowesque form. The details of her features were lost by the contrast of the lighting and so I began to sneak toward her. When the space between us is diminished I leap from the shadows to scare her, emitting the best growl that I could as I landed before her face. ”Yes!” It is spoken after the growl subsides, an innocent assuredness in my small timbre as I stand tall before her now.