As soon as he reached the center of their lands, where the main dens were located, his overtly jovial manner left him. He was still happy, his tucked tail still wagged, but now he wasn't bouncing around everywhere. It just wasn't right to be so flamboyantly happy when they had just relocated to this strange river-side place. As he approached his brothers' den, Kenai tripped over a root sticking out of a tuft of grass. Falling forward and landing on his chest and belly with a loud <i>oompf</i>, Kenai accidentally let the rabbit go. It skidded across the dirt and landed right in front of Indru's den, where it truly was needed most. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, Kenai crawled onto his belly and called out softly, <b>"I brought lunch."</b> Whoever answered would be welcome company to the young man, whose tail wagged through the grass behind him.
As soon as he reached the center of their lands, where the main dens were located, his overtly jovial manner left him. He was still happy, his tucked tail still wagged, but now he wasn't bouncing around everywhere. It just wasn't right to be so flamboyantly happy when they had just relocated to this strange river-side place. As he approached his brothers' den, Kenai tripped over a root sticking out of a tuft of grass. Falling forward and landing on his chest and belly with a loud <i>oompf</i>, Kenai accidentally let the rabbit go. It skidded across the dirt and landed right in front of Indru's den, where it truly was needed most. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, Kenai crawled onto his belly and called out softly, <b>"I brought lunch."</b> Whoever answered would be welcome company to the young man, whose tail wagged through the grass behind him.
Kinis' belly was complaining. His weaning had almost been complete by the time of the fire, which had quite forcibly removed any milk source. Sometimes, it helped to think of that matter in such cold, neutral terms; he was still quite unable to face the trauma of it, and, perhaps, a little too young to fully comprehend it. Either way, he had been obliged to get used to a fully-meat diet, and now had quite grown to enjoy it.
As such, his little nose was on the high alert when the smell of a rabbit - foodfoodfood! - wafted by the den, which the little boy was currently resting inside. It was warm, safe, smelt of his biggest brothers and, best of all, Borlla wasn't there, so it was entirely perfect. Kinis' attention was already perked when he then heard a familiar voice, and his excitement doubled. "Kenai!" he yipped, bumbling up out of the den to greet his bigger brother. Regardless of the boy's happiness for seeing Kenai, his true intention was soon clear; a bee-line was made for the rabbit, and though his milk teeth weren't quite tough enough to break through the skin of the rabbit, he contented himself for a moment with his attempts. A few moments later, admitting defeat, he settled for licking the rabbit's fur, enjoying the taste of blood around its mouth that he now associated with a full belly.
<i>at least... that's where I'm supposed to be...</i></center>
Kenai sat sphinx-like next to Kinis and began to rip the rabbit into pieces. Once he had a piece for Kinis, he handed it over, and tore a piece for himself. The rest he placed in the protective area between his legs, near his chest, where he could guard it easily. If anyone else happened to join them, he'd easily and quickly hand it over. His bright yellow eyes studied the blue-eyed child before him. He was so young and had just lost his mother, as Kenai had. The clumsy, awkward boy still ached from the loss of his home and family, but he reminded himself that at least he had his siblings to keep him comfortable.
It was a good question, and gave Kinis pause for thought. This allowed enough distraction time for Kenai to take a hold of the rabbit, ripping into it with far more skill than Kinis, who was still debating his mood when he was offered a piece. Taking it happily, and far more able to chew and bite it in this way, the little puppy set himself down between his larger brother's front paws and set upon his meat happily. He kept one eye on the rest of the creature, settled safely closer to Kenai, in the hopes that he would be able to secure another sliver later on.
"I am happy," he began, with his face full of fresh meat and droplets of blood spattering the fur on his lips, "because I have food! But I am also sad." No explanation was needed for that, at least in his point of view, but that didn't mean it wouldn't come. It still tore at his nerves - but, more importantly, his curiosity. Swallowing hard, he turned his face up to look intently at his brother, his face otherwise quite blank. "Kenaiiii. Where did they go?"
<i>at least... that's where I'm supposed to be...</i></center>
But Kinis's next question threw him off. Kenai, clumsy and yet loving as he was, couldn't bear to break his brother's little heart with the truth. But he could not lie to the boy. Kenai was one of his role-models know and anyway, their mother had always taught them never to lie. It only caused unnecessary problems. <b>"Kinis,"</b> he began softly, discarding his food and nuzzling his little brother's ribs. <b>"They have gone away to a place where fires never happen. They are no longer in their flesh, but they are always with us, Kinis. Our mother and father will never leave us as long as we remember them and love them."</b>
Why didn't anybody's explanation make sense?
Though Kinis had no reason to presume that Kenai was lying, he still didn't find the answer satisfactory. Perhaps he had felt that his brother had hesitated, assessed his response, spoken with a more careful manner, which unsettled Kinis. What was wrong with a straight answer? Why was it all so confusing? Still, he respected his older brother's efforts, and for a period of time was quiet, contemplative. He still had a small portion of rabbit left over; he chewed half-heartedly on it, tiny cogs turning in his tiny head, coming to no good end, just spinning over and over and over...
<b>"If they are with me,"</b> he began slowly, gradually putting together the pieces of confusion in his head - many caused by his most recent answer - <b>"then can I see them? How are they with me? How will they know I love them? Do they still love me? Do they remember me?"</b> As was probably not unexpected, Kinis' tirade of thoughts bubbled over incessantly, each flowing over the last in a tidal wave of curiosity and desire to understand. Again he stared up at his brother, desperate to comprehend it, unaware of the overwhelming nature of his unfair interrogation. His meal was forgotten. It was irrelevant. <b>"Why aren't they in their flesh? Can I, um, get out of my flesh? To see them?"</b> This was the crux of the matter; the little boy lowered his head, momentarily unable to meet his older, wiser, better brother's gaze, feeling weak and sad and silly. Most of all sad. His voice had lost its enthusiasm and power, and quietly conveyed the depths of his pain. <b>"I miss them."</b>
</blockquote>
<i>at least... that's where I'm supposed to be...</i></center>
<b>"They are dead, little brother. They will never be back to make us laugh or cuddle with us. They have become part of the earth again."</b> Kenai was sure his brother didn't understand this much more than his earlier explanation, but it was the truth, and as bluntly as he could put it. <b>"They are dead and are never coming back."</b> This was not easy, nor was answering any of his brother's other questions. <b>"Their spirits still love you, Kinis, they will always love us. Their minds are gone back into the earth, but they remember us. Their spirits do."</b> He wasn't sure how to answer his question about their flesh, and so he kept silent on that count. However, when Kinis asked if he could get out of his own flesh, Kenai's eyes flashed with worry. <b>"You can only do that when you are old and ready to leave this world, brother. Never think of that again."</b>
Kenai's head hung as he agreed, <b>"I miss them too."</b>