Driftwood Surge high hopes - Printable Version

He kept close to the entrance of the den, his plump black noise quivering as foreign scents came and went. There were too many for the boy to keep track of—not that he tried. He still lacked an interest in the outside world. It was bright and noisy; unappealing. Everything that the dark den behind him wasn’t. His siblings were keen on testing their limits (and earning scoldings from their parents), but not Legolas. He was content staying put exactly where he was. For now.

It was easier to pull himself to the edge of the den when the bright orb in the sky fell behind the trees. Everything was darker; softer. Easier to handle. He did not understand the concept of changing lights, and incapable of forming words to ask why the outside went from light to dark. All the undefined shapes surrounding the den blurred into each other when the light fell, making it even more difficult to see, but the dusty boy didn’t mind. It brought him the same comfort as his mother’s stomach. Plus, with his siblings tucked away into their mother’s side, he could actually observe the outside without them bombarding him. Making him almost enjoy it.

Just before the moon fell beneath the tree line XIX left to retrieve something for his mate to eat. While the couple had never tended to three of their own children, they had acquired a few more after the death of Lachesis’ former co-lead, so they were accustom to juggling pups that outnumbered them. But they worked well together, and knew when to give each other breaks.

More specifically: Lachesis knew when to shoo his wife away to ensure she wasn’t getting overwhelmed.

He had returned to the den with a plump mouse dangling from his jaws. It was not much, but it would suffice until he was able to do a proper hunt. The Surge wolves did well in refilling the pack’s caches, but Lachesis liked doing his part. Just because he was the leader of a pack did not mean he couldn’t pitch in when it was needed. He was more of a do-er anyway; always wanting to help out and keep himself busy. Lilya was, too, which was why he knew being pent up in their shared den was probably delivering her crazy.

A familiar ivory shape caught his attention at the entrance of the den. A faint smile caused the corners of his mouth to lift as he plopped down inches away from where his son had situated himself, his chin canting softly to the side as he placed the mouse between his paws. Come here, Legolas, he hummed as he motioned for the boy to come forward, away from the familiarity of the den. The last born was the most timid of the three and reminded Lachesis a lot of himself when he had been younger; therefore, he wanted to show the boy that there was nothing to fear. That the outside world could be just as peaceful and welcoming as the den he was accustom to.

The boy remained where he was, his little chin resting atop his oversized paws as the air grew colder. But he didn’t mind. The smells had begun to change, and while they were still overwhelming Legolas did his best to try and differentiate them. It was hard, mostly because he did not know the names associated with the smells, but some of them made sense. There were the tall green things and the short green things—he could tell the difference between those two, but he did not know their names. He’d learn eventually. Hopefully. A sigh caused his shoulders to sag as he nestled into the dirt, his denim eyes blinking lazily into the darkness.

Soon he was greeted by a familiar shape: his father. His tail twitched at the sight of the ghost as he lifted his head, a faint smile pulling his lips back. But he did not move. While the outside smelled pleasant it did not mean that it was, even if father was out there. But his father urged him forward, speaking his name and encouraging the boy to leave the safety of their den with a soft flick of his nose. He hesitated, his forepaws twitching nervously against the ground…

He was not surprised when little Legolas remained where he was, timid and unsure of the environment beyond the den. But Lachesis remained, patient and understanding as he motioned for the boy to come forward once more. This time he shuffled a little closer, mimicking an army crawl, as he attempted to decrease the space between them. Eventually the boy would comply; he would just have to make it appealing for him to do so. He glanced down at the mouse between his paws, his lips curling. It looked like he was going to have to get Lilya a different snack… he laughed softly to himself as he nudged the mouse forward, using it as bait to lure the boy closer… It’s okay, he hummed once more, his chin now pressed against the ground once he gave the mouse a gentle toss in Legolas’ direction. Nothing to be scared of. Just me and the mouse.

Mouse. It was a strange sound but the boy knew it was associated with food. With yummy. It was the stuff momma and dad always ate. He blinked as he shuffled closer, leaving only his hind legs left in the den. Dad was here, with the mouse, so the outside had to be safe… right? Dad wouldn’t trick him or put him in harms way… right? He nodded softly to himself as he continued shuffling forward, his oversized paws dragging him across the soft ground as he inched closer to the little creature. His nose twitched as he prodded the mouse with his paw, his brows pinching tight as he analyzed the yummy. It didn’t move, which meant it couldn’t hurt him … unless it was trying to spook him like his siblings often did … He grumbled with uncertainty, his denim gaze landing on his father. Safe? he wanted to ask, but the word hesitated on his tongue as he couldn’t remember the sound. Hopefully dad would understand him… he wasn’t as good at sounds like his siblings. Not yet.

It was almost painful how much the little ivory boy reminded XIX of himself. All nerves and tight lips. Hopefully the boy would grow out of his shell as he aged, just as Lachesis had. But the older Stark understood that it would take time. It had taken him almost three years to overcome his stutter and gain an ounce of confidence. But, with Lilya’s genes, the river king hoped that Legolas’ change would occur sooner in life. For his own benefit.

Yes, safe, he hummed as he motioned for the boy to come closer once more, the smile still present on his pale features. He gave the mouse another hard shove, flinging it closer to the edge of the den to lure the ivory boy out into the open. Just me and the mouse. And the big scary world beyond the den, but that wasn’t worth mentioning. Not when the boy trembled at the sight of his own shadow. Baby steps. Quick, before your brother and sister wake, he added, this time adopting a teasing tone despite the warm smile still pressed to his handsome features.

Safe. There was that word again. A word that Legolas knew and understood quite well. Safe was good; he liked safe. Father knew exactly how to lure him outside the den; filling his little head with the warm, pleasant thoughts of safety. He inhaled deeply, his little chest puffing out as he took hesitant steps forward. He left the comfort of the cool den behind him, his little brows furrowed as his navy gaze fixated on the limp mouse just inches away from him… Mouse was safe too, right? Had to be, otherwise father wouldn’t have brought it for him to play with…

He’d seen both momma and dad eat the fuzzy thing before but he wasn’t sure how to feel about it himself. It was different than the warm milk he was accustom to; chewy. It was still good, and he found himself liking it more and more, but he did not understand why his parents were so enthralled by it.

Whatever.

With a sharp exhale the boy flung himself forward, his oversized paws reaching for the lump of silver fur. But, of course, the boy missed. He collapsed in a heap of fur just past the mouse, his little chin bouncing against the soft ground. Immediately his expression wrinkled as a dark frown cut against his stumpy maw. But he did not make a peep as he spun around and launched a second attack on the limp creature; this time his paws met their target. A triumphant squeak escaped him as he somersaulted against the ground, the mouse gripped firmly between his paws as he tumbled about…

It took every fibre in his body to stifle the laugh that wanted to escape when his son missed the mouse. He couldn’t laugh—he wouldn’t. He did not want to discourage his son from exploring the outdoor world, and the creatures within it, by laughing at him. That was not proper father etiquette. Fortunately, for Lachesis, he did not have to encourage his son to go for a round two. The ivory boy repeated his attack, his plump body soaring through the sky before making contact with the little mouse. Atta boy! he wanted to scream, but he bit his tongue once more; he did not want to startle the boy after his success. There would be plenty of time for praise—perhaps when the boy wasn’t so delicate. Legolas, also, wasn’t like his siblings. He did not crave reassurance or approval. He was happy living in his own world with his own thoughts.

With the mouse gripped firmly between his jaws Legolas steadied himself, his denim gaze sweeping around the clearing as he searched for the familiar pale shape of his father. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shuffled forward, closer to Lachesis’ towering shape. The mouse’s tail dragged along the ground between his toes as he pranced about, pride causing his chest to swell once more. Not only had he left the den (which he already missed) but he had also sort of caught a mouse! Today was definitely a day of firsts and Legolas couldn’t be happier—and it looked like dad was, too! His pace quickened and, before he knew it, the ivory boy barrelled into his father’s chest, dropping the mouse as his tiny frame connected with Lachesis’ pale fur. A triumphant squeak escaped him as he collapsed to the ground on his little rump, his nose pointed to the sky as he searched for something to nibble on… preferably something attached to his father…

The mouse had lost its excitement quickly; his father’s ear had attracted his attention now. With furious determination the boy’s needle-like teeth reached for Lachesis’ closest ear, a low rumble humming in the back of his throat. But why was dad so tall?

It did not take long for Legolas to grow tired of the mouse. In fact, he had abandoned the rodent a lot quicker than he had expected. His brows pinched tight with concern; he almost expected the boy to race back toward the comfort of the den. Instead Legolas focused his attention on him inside, his darkened expression causing Lachesis’ expression to tighten. It appeared the ivory Stark had found a new interest: Lachesis’ ear. He began bouncing on hindlegs, mimicking a rabbit as he lunged skyward in an attempt to seize one of Lachesis’ ears between his little jaws. But the pale father wasn’t going to let his son reach his goal so easily. No—if Legolas wanted to make a snack out of his ear he was going to have to work for it. Just like he had to work for the rabbit.