Milk-drunk and sprawled upon his side, Nen'tah dreamt of running. With steady breaths and powerful legs far longer than he yet possessed, the wind rushed through his fur as he surged forward; a formless shadow sprinted ahead of him, instinct already providing a visual of what experience lacked.

To hunt. Chase.

Faster! Faster!

His leg twitched and he suddenly woke with a start, the sound of C'eghaan's eager yips rousing him from his sleep. The pup yawned and licked his milk-stained lips, surveying his siblings and their swiftly-retreating forms with Mother's quiet obsidian eyes. He didn't rush to his paws and follow them out, but studied them carefully, watching their movements in silence. Nen'tah liked to observe.

Yesbaa wasted no time, however. His gaze flickered toward her eager feasting, and for a moment he felt torn; should he follow his brothers out beyond the den, or stay behind and take advantage of Mother's free-flowing milk?

Mother made the decision for him.

The dark child stood up and walked with quiet resignation toward the exit. Light streamed in, and he blinked against it; but yes, what of sister? Nen'tah turned to look back at Yesbaa, a silent question in his eyes as if to say, 'aren't you coming too?'