A little pup wandered over the ground. His mother was asleep, and he was blindly forcing himself over the dirt. Arvin’s wings smacked him in the face, and he bit at one, prompting a yelp as he felt the wetness of his mouth on one and realized it was attached to him. 

Arvin didn’t know that he had to be close to his mother to survive. He didn’t even know that he was living. So, he set off for the great unknown. 

The boy gave up at the mouth of the den. He was tired and now a bit hungry, and he wanted the warmth of his mother. Plus, the den was angled down and it took a lot of energy to drag his body up to the top. He let himself slide down. Perhaps this would become a form of game for Arvin and Radke when they grew older. 

Arvin slid on his patch of ice and as he began to suckle his mother again, hoarfrost spread over her leg, which the child was sprawled on. Arvin had no idea that he was doing this, and he squeaked and slid away from the chill, knocking into his brother Radke. Arvin began suckling again. 

He soon dropped off to sleep, curled up against his dying unnamed brother. That young pup heaved his last breaths and his heart slowly wound down, never to start again.