He does not know why it is that she deems to awaken him with the cold touch of her nose, his form embraced in sleep as he lays nearer Flare then any other, drawn by the heat of the female some time during the night as he remains enclosed in his own darkened furs with white banded tail wrapped about himself. She prods at him still, disturbs him from his slumbers and dreams in which he is so much more then the small creature he is. Within his dreams he sees all manner of things and perhaps he believes them, to an extent. His mind is not made of fictitious things or idle musings, his mind is made of practicality and understand that comes only from those whom listen before they speak and Gunsynd listens well. Many do not notice him, many do not care to close their words from him, for his laziness surely means his ears too are prone to mishear. In time they will see, in time they will understand and perhaps in time they will have the thought to reconsider the lazy child born to battle cries. For now however, he seeks not to improve his image at all, a disgruntled snort offered in his Mothers direction as she pokes at him over and over until at last he is forced to rise- he, her only son and perhaps the least adventurous of them all. Not all boys are overly energetic, it would seem. Dark paws carry him from the den and in her wake, eyes of forest green narrowed in displeasure at this task before him as his body feels thick and heavy with the sleep he had been outcast from. She leads and he follows, though where they are going he does not know, hopes only that it is not far for he hardly cares to walk that far.

His patience for this excursion however, tires quickly, small paws pacing alongside the river for some yards still before he finally seats himself abruptly, a huff of air released to announce to his Mother that he will be led no further towards a goal he cannot see, green eyes narrowed with that same determination that often afflict the blue of her own and the stubbornness that has long -marked his sire.

“I am not going any further- it is too far.”

To go without cause. Though he does not add the last part, merely continuing to seat himself, waiting for Mother to turn back around, waiting to meet the defiance in her gaze with his own as he very near dares her to move him. He grows each day and in time will both outsize and outweigh her, even if he will never reach the true bulk of his sire. Soon she will be unable to lift him, drag him or hurry him and indeed there is a part within the boy that knows this, that seems determined to test this side of her patience if only she will allow it to be tested. His white banded tail wraps once more around his paws, assuming a position that displays in it’s entirety his unwillingness to be moved from this spot as that silvery fur blows softly in the breeze. His gaze draws from her own at last, turned instead with interest onto the stream beside him, the flash of silver indicating it is surely filled with fish though the water is far to cold to stoke his desire any further beyond that, merely eyeing them with some sense of childish intrigue as they swim beneath him. Did they ever come up for air? Would they not drown? His features frown slightly in confusion, considering these things before he speaks suddenly.

“Mother?”

He forest green gaze rests on the river still, his words absentminded in a sense, waiting some moments to make sure she has heard him before he speaks again.

“Lonhro says that before this was our pack, it belonged to another, is that true?”

The way in which packs work, it would seem, is of interest to the boy as he attempts to understand the world around him.

“When you cannot lead any longer Mother, who will you give our pack to? Will it be me or will it be Never?”