Most days he didn’t like being woken up. It was only okay when his parents roused him from his slumber (although he usually protested), but he despised it when one of his littermates poked and prodded him awake. It usually meant that they wanted him to play with them, which he didn’t want any part of. Some days he was more adventurous and would join in their roughhousing, but most of the time the boy kept to himself. Observing from afar. Judging.
Today, however, he was coaxed into the world of the living by a gentle song. His ears twitched and unfolded from his dusty cranium as he shuffled toward the mouth of the den, his navy pools narrowing as he tried to figure out what was making such a peculiar sound. He was still adjusting to the different shapes outside and was slowly learning the names that accompanied them, but this sound didn’t have a name yet. He glanced around him nervously before pushing himself into a wobbly stand and marching toward the mouth of the den. It was uncharacteristically bold of him, but curiosity drove him forward. He was hungry for answers…
He only made it two steps outside the den before he plopped down against the soft ground, a cool breeze greeting the dusty Stark. The boy glanced around nervously as he tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, but it sounded as though it was coming from everywhere…