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Phim was not a baby anymore. He was a big kid now with massive paws and a not-so-massive frame. Both sisters had shot past him in height so far, even Anastasia who …. Wasn't well. All three of them had always been more squarely built than their Mother, more like their Father. Phim had always been a little plushier than them, too, but where Scarlett looked healthy, even the young boy could tell their littermate did not. Her pelt was dull no matter how much time Raisa seemed to spend grooming her quietly in the nest, and it hung but thinly from skin that suddenly seemed too large for her, sagging off a frame that suddenly seemed fragile. She'd been the same size as Scar, and now she looked more like a shadow.

Phim tried to cheer her up sometimes, and brought her whatever neat little trinket he could find, and offered her all the food first. Some days she gobbled everything down quick as a blink, but many days she just insisted she wasn't hungry. Mama kept giving her herbs, and sometimes they seemed to help… but never for long.

And this was only one travesty. Papa was gone. Mama didn't have many words on it; he had an itch to walk free, she had told them, but he loved them all the same as he ever had. She wouldn't say anything bad had happened, but one morning he'd just been…. Gone, and Raisa was just laying across the den entrance scowling outside as if she expected trouble - or had just sent some scurrying off. She'd tucked away her anger as she noticed the whelps waking, but he'd seen it all the same. But she was Mama, and she was as resolute and loving as SHE had always been. Admittedly, nothing much seemed to change. Papa had not been around much to start with, but Phim would miss the cuddle puddles with the entire family, his sires friendly drawl, his massive fluffy form good for climbing. Even if his scent was already fading to the back of his memory a piece of Bogart, however small, would remain with his only son. He'd never done them any wrong, Phim reasoned, even though there was a layer of sadness over the den now. Even if everything had been just fine before he had gone; Mama happy, Ana healthy, the family together!

One good thing had come with the passing of time, at least....

If not Raisa herself, someone still always clung like burrs to the children; sometimes in the background and sometimes not, but Uncle Carnifex and Aunt Serafina were never far even when Raisa or Shreya stayed in the den. Yet Mama said that so long as they behaved, minded their manners, and came when they were called -or otherwise home by sunset-, and kept far inside the borders of Northfall land.... freedom was now laid at their paws. Phim didn't mind the rules! The world had just expanded by miles and miles, and there was plenty within it to entertain his free hours.
She'd showed them one of the markers so they knew the smell of the borders, and she had spoken true! Now, whenever Phim hollered that he was going out to play, he could go so far the ravine was no longer in sight! And beyond Up, up, up the mountain Raisa was teaching them to traverse safely. The young wolf-dog was sure not a day had passed where Raisa taught them something, showed them some new wonder, or brought them some new toy or prey.... but now their lessons were less talking and more doing!

Anastasia should've been learning with them, though. The thought was always heavy on his mind when Raisa was nudging his limbs into better position to pounce, or showing Scarlett some track upon the earth. But he would teach her himself, he told anyone who would listen, when she recovered!

Mama had done something strange today, and called for someone.... new. She was tall, pale white as a cloud and brown like dirt, smelling of herbs and berries and dirt! Colorful shapes swirled and slashed across her coat in a ruddy orange tone, but it wasn't fur -- the lady, who introduced herself so kindly as Fiora, said -- it was clay! Phim... didn't know what clay was. Pretty, he thought. But before he could ask her any questions, Raisa was shooing him and Scarlett from the den with a "go play outside, lovelies," and turning Fiora's attention to Anastasia's form huddled in the nest. And, well, it suddenly seemed pertinent to make himself scarce; he noticed as he trotted out that Fiora had herbs, too, and he could see the worry in her purple eyes as she moved to look at Anastasia.

Raisa only just started to let people in the ravine. She never, never let people in the den! Not unless they were Rodion-kin themselves, and he knew he'd met all of those that (Raisa knew) remained in Mythris!

The grey boy shot Scarlett a smile, however halfhearted it was knowing that one-third of their childhood was being left in that den to wheeze and struggle. He could not take care of Anastasia, not now, but he could take care of Scarlett. M'goin up, he informed her, I seen a river made of ice yesterday, Scar! But Мать called before I got there. He grinned a little wider. I remember the way there though! He tapped her gently with his single dark paw before falling into a play-bow. You should come with me!
Yes, or no, though, he couldn't sit here and imagine them poking and prodding Anastasia, lingering on how terribly she looked, trying to figure out how to help her and clearly only a little less clueless than Seraphim himself.

He swiped a lick across her muzzle and loped off with a bounce in his trot. Maybe he was being silly! The adults would handle things, and Anastasia would be able to come the next time he wanted to show his sisters something neat! The boy moved with clumsy paws up the ravine, his breaths coming quicker before he'd gone far up the steep, rocky hill, and leaving him panting lightly by the time he reached the top. It was only once he was there did he glance back to see if Scarlett had, in fact, followed, or if she was lingering.