As the days continued to roll by the little Kael was venturing further away from the den he shared with his mother, his over-sized paws clumsily carrying him over the stone. He was getting better at maintaining his balance and did not fall as much as he used to for he was finally growing in to the boulders attached to his legs. Cyril still was not as fast as his older packmates but he was determined to be the fastest. During his excursions away from the den the smudge tried to practice as much as possible, but it was not easy when he possessed four left feet.

Today he abandoned his training. The ground was slick due to the inconsistent rain overhead and he did not want to risk injury. Not when he was training to be the very best. He could not ruin his career of Fastest Whitestone Wolf with an injury due to negligence!!! How embarrassing!!!

Instead he trotted lazily around the seemingly empty communal dens. Cyril did not mind the company of his older packmates—or his parents—but he did not protest when he got time to himself. Quietly he continued forward, his denim blues scanning his surroundings to ensure that nobody was lurking around nearby. He clambered atop a still damp rock, his paws only slipping a few times before he managed to hoist himself up. A soft smile broke across his dark features as he scanned the tundra below, his brows narrowed in determination as he looked for something interesting.