The den had become very small.

Corax had decided this shortly after waking, though the feeling had been building for days. Outside was everything: wind, birds, trees, strange smells, and places his mother and father disappeared into before returning with the scent of the world clinging to their fur.

So he lay near the mouth of the den with his forepaws stretched toward freedom. A breeze curled inside carrying with it damp earth, bark, and the trace of something alive beyond his sight. His nose twitched ears lifting, and after one cautious glance over his shoulder, he crept forward.

Cool air ruffled the dark fur along his crown as he stepped outside the world was enormous, trees stretching impossibly high, the sky endless, and then a dark shape swept overhead.

A bird.

His whole expression sharpened as he watched it disappear beyond the trees and before he could think he hurried after it several steps, nose dropping toward the ground with grave concentration, maybe birds left trails.

Behind him the den already seemed much farther away. Corax glanced back and then forward again, tail giving a small longing flick.