roughly 1.5 months |

Outside of the den, the world woke slowly. The autumnal chill made even the busy squirrels and chattering cardinals reluctant to leave the sparse warmth of the huddled flocks and leaf-lined tree stumps they had survived the frosted night hours within.

Within the den, however, his mother's body heat and the insulating packed dirt walls kept the Lăutari as toasty as he would be curled beside a hearth. He woke slowly too, but only because of how much energy his body was putting toward building thicker, warmer fur, eyes that were slowly losing their infant lapis shade, and cartilage in ears that gradually sat sturdier atop his tiny head. He remained small for his age, quick to tire and prone to entire days spent lethargic and difficult to rouse even to eating.

Today, though, he had no such difficulties. Reid stretched first, belly flush to the soft floor of the den as his toes splayed and a yawn split his jaws. A little puppy whine keened from his chest as he finished yawning and gathered his two-toned, stubby limbs beneath his insubstantial weight. He stepped toward the fleecy, warm mountain that was Mama, only for one of his paws to forget to cooperate, and the boy tumbled face-first into the side of her.

Hnff. He said, but recovered his footing so he could set both fawn-tan front paws on her ribs. His eyes, not yet set on what color they would like to be, affixed upon her - he presumed - still-sleeping face.

Aaa...Ma. If she did not respond immediately, he would attempt to scale her mountainous being a little more, closing the gap between his face and hers until his whiskers could tickle the shell of her ear. Mmmma.

Wake up. His plea was clear, and she had yet to deny him anything his sweet heart desired.