It feels like Spring is coming late this year. Though, if you asked the mud-colored she-wolf, Spring comes late every year.

She's absolutely sick of her pelt being saturated with all this water. Mud clings to her pelt like burrs to a bison, working its way down to her bone and leaving her in a miserable and irritated mood. Luckily, today seems drier, but the overcast skies prevent the grass from drying as much as she'd like. And oh, how she hates the morning dew. She'd do anything just to feel the sun on her back for one evening.

The she-wolf is settled at the entrance of the den, observing her youngest wobble around with an unwavering gaze. There's only one this year... Rashida did her best, but for some reason, only this one made it long enough to find her paws. She's still too wary to grow deeply attached to the little puffball, worried she may turn out like her littermates, but that doesn't mean Rashida isn't keeping Sunuka within the safety of her mother's shadow at all times. On the bright side... at least there's only one pup for her and her mate to care for.

"Sunuka, don't wander too close to that bush, you'll get poked," Rashida calls gently as she sees her youngest rolling around a bit too close to some brambles. She knows Sunuka is a good pup who listens well, so she isn't worried enough to stand and redirect her. Rashida only waves her tail a little, hoping that distracts Sunuka and entices her to wrestle with it, or something. That's how Rashida occupied her eldest children when they were her age.

Speaking of... where are those older children of hers? Rashida's been so focused on the tiny pup, that she forgot to keep tabs on her gangly teens. She glances up around the densite, searching the treeline for them or her mate. Laika might be out training them, maybe. Perhaps a small hunting trip? It'd be nice to get something for her to chew on, maybe she can give Sunuka a small nibble. Her weaning efforts have been yielding mixed results lately, but that's to be expected at the start of the process.

She debates calling, but that'd be foolish with just her alone at the den and taking care of a young pup. So instead she finally stands, sauntering over to lick some dirt off of Sunuka's pelt and try to see if she can see or hear anything from a different vantage point.

Sunuka | Pup | She/Her | M: Rashida (direct), Ehcik, everyone (indirect)

Playing amongst the damp foliage and budding blossoms was a young pup, no more than a month old. Sunuka. The only current survivor of this year's litter. It was quite ironic that she was the one to outlive her littermates, considering she was born the smallest of the bunch. Then again, Sunuka did show some remarkable spirit for a wee thing like herself. She was the first to nurse, the first to open her eyes, the first to rise to her paws and find balance...and, ultimately, the only one to do so. Hopefully the pup would last long enough to grow into a fine huntress like her parents.

Her squeaks and noises of delight permeated the brisk air as she scampered over to a shrub of particular interest. The overcast and chilly weather didn't deter her curiosity. There was stuff to explore! So much to see, and do, and smell, and feel. Even the most mundane of things, like the musky scent of the earth after rain, or the flittering of leaves in the wind enraptured the young pup. Sunuka was in the prime of her puphood, blissfully oblivious to the hazards of the wilderness and the ever-looming threat of a merciless demise. It was all play, learn, sleep, repeat.

Eyes alight with wonder, Sunuka watched as a butterfly landed on a nearby clump of sagebrush. She cocked her head to the side and studied the tiny creature with intrigue. The way it gently flapped its wings was enchanting to her. It was so beautiful, so peaceful, but also so fragile. She leaned forward to sniff it, only for the butterfly to get startled and flutter away. A sad huff escaped the pup.

She then noticed Ehcik a few yards away. She was going to approach him to engage in play, only to hear a firm bark warning her to not get too close to the bushes. Rashida. At her mother's command, her ears perked up.

"Sorry, mama!" Sunuka yipped, her youthful features morphing into a sheepish pout as she teetered back over to her mother. The fallow furred pup plopped down on her fuzzy haunches, gazing up at Rashida with expectant, milky blue eyes. Occasionally, she would peer over her shoulder at her older brother. She couldn't help but wonder where the others were.