Life was meant to be plural.  At least, that's what Aven had been able to surmise in her short time on this Earth. The cub had never known anything else, and so she had no reason to believe that there was any other way. From her earliest moments of consciousness, to this moment right here, there had always been two. Their mother came and went, adding and subtracting to their number each time she entered or exited the den, but she was the outlier, not the rule.

Thus, when Magg called for the pair, Aven did not wantonly crash over the threshold. Instead, she waited for her sister at the precipice between the world she'd always known and the one she had only ever dreamed about. They would cross the threshold together or not at all, and in the cub's mind, that was final.

Blood Runs Thicker Than Water

The days all blended together, but she was happy. Her mother came and went, the sun rose and fell, other voices sometimes spoke with them, but there was always Aven. There would always be Aven. So when their mother’s form left the entrance and let the sunlight begin to stream in she did not think much of it. Then came something new, a chuff, a call for them. Neva pressed her side against her twin sister for comfort and took a deep inhale.

Right foot forward, she knew that Aven would be taking the same and then they entered the world. Still so small, so vulnerable, but stronger together. Some children might be overwhelmed by such a large change, but to Neva it felt the same. Despite her mother’s rocky relationship with the pack, the child had never wanted for anything, had never known danger, had only security. There was nothing to fear, not here.

But Both Feel The Same When Your Eyes Are Closed

Blood Runs Thicker Than Water

Neva had hesitated in the denway for just long enough to blink a few times, eye adjusting to the brightest thing she had ever seen. She had seen the sun, only when it shone on the dirt floor, just a reflection of the true thing in the sky. This was something completely different, bright, almost painfully so. She pressed closer to Aven, until their mother began cooing.

That was all that she needed. Beaming proudly, the cub yipped excitedly and pressed forward. The dirt of their den gave way into a new sensation, stone beneath her paws. Pausing, she looked down, toes wiggling against the new texture, warm from the sun, but somehow also cold. Her head tilted to the right, examining it with intensity. Then she forgot all about it and hurried to her mother’s shadow. From here she looked out past the tripod legs, there was so much to see.

Once Aven was beside her, Neva would move to go even farther, disregarding any protest that might come from the adults. She needed to see it all now, pandora’s box had been opened and there was no going back.

But Both Feel The Same When Your Eyes Are Closed

The first few moments in direct sunlight were less than comfortable, forcing Aven to squint and blink as her eyes tried desperately to adjust to the brightness. Eventually, they did, and her vision came in, just in time for the coo of their mother to ring out. Brave. She was brave.

Aven followed as her sister pulled away, her own excitement making it difficult as the swing of her tail threatened to topple her over. The world was new, the wolves were new, the sights, and scents, and textures, but so long as she had Neva by her side, it didn't feel all that overwhelming.