roughly 2 months |

Winter's grip tightened around the high peaks of the Vale, but nestled within the snow-clad pines and plummeting slopes, the robin thrived. A breath of spring itself, his laughter and chatter echoed off the walls of Svajone's densite with increasing frequency as he grew. This morning was no exception - he heard no coarse whistling wind outside, and so his heart was set on an excursion.

He had tried to prepare. Reid clambered to his paws and shook his pelt out - confident no one would laugh when he inevitably stumbled under the force - then tried to groom his downy puppy fur into order. He could not see the tufted cowlick atop his head or the cheek fur smashed flat against his temple, and so he paid it no mind - his paws looked clean, so he was ready!

Svajone had most surely heard him jostling around with puppyish excitement. Reid did not think to even check with her - his eyes had developed enough to make out some shapes and movement outside the den's mouth, and he wished to know what it was! He surged forward on clumsy paws, huffing and whuffing with the exertion and his mounting excitement. His tail curved over his back, he stuck his head out of the den and...

And promptly shrank back as a cold few snowflakes landed atop his crown and muzzle. Why was the sky spitting cold at him?! Oh-! Reid pronounced, profoundly hurt by this betrayal. He flopped onto his stomach, paws at the edge of the den's sheltered entrance, and whines in protest.