'If one believes in something or someone as a god, at best they will have their favor when they die and, at worst, end up in Oblivion. This gives one an entity to which they will be held accountable to, which at worst, is based on something or someone who does not actually exist. Alternatively, one can believe in nothing, ensuring their destination is Oblivion with the only gain being that there is no one to hold them accountable for their actions. Mhm! I had been living a modest life, waiting to die and either disappear or spend a peaceful life in clouds above, so why is it that neither have occurred? Cold and wet, my body does not function as it should, and my vision is blurry.'

'It feels as though I am being held --- Ah, someone is licking me. This tongue's feeling: not rough, but long. So~, not a cat --- a nose, snout? --- not a bird, not pointy like a mouse, not slobbery... a dog maybe? Arms, dog, arms, dog … a dog with arms? What were they called again? Not Kobold --- they are lizard people. What were dog-people called? Ah! Dog-people are dog-people … yeah, probably that. So, if dog-people exist then that means I am in some fictitious reality, right? Or an unpleasant dream.'

"..."

"Zira, stop licking Tic. Do you want to see our baby? He is so cute!" Mira said, while motioning the wolf to lay beside her and calm down.

"Hm~, indeed, he has my build. I am sure he will grow up to be just like his father." cheerfully boasted Carde, while moving to the next available spot beside his wife. "It looks like Zira is also looking forward to raising the first child of our family."

"Here my boy, come and drink some of Mommy's milk, then get plenty of rest so you grow up strong," said Mira as she brought him up to her chest. "Don't worry Zira, you will soon also have a bunch of little ones to feed."

'If this is a dream, I should be able to will myself to fly as usual.' Testing his theory, he tensed up while trying to will himself to fly. "NN! Ha~." 'Not working. Then, assuming this is reality, what am I suppose to do? This body is even more inconvenient then the old bag of bones I was before.' Swaddled in thick cloth, his freedom of movement was restricted and, being a newborn, his strength and energy were greatly limited. With the warmth of his new mother's arms and fresh milk, Tic succumb to sleep.

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For few weeks, Tic had spent his time eating, sleeping, and thinking. He initially worried about having to wait in dirty diapers until someone changed him, but his dogged parents always kept a nose out for him. To date there have been four distinct individuals within his new family: two who were likely some breed of dog whom Tic dubbed Father and Mother; a brawny human male --- given his coarse body hair and crude handling, dubbed Old Man; and human female with tender skin --- dubbed Mama. His choice of nicknames where largely based on how these individuals interacted with him, though some personal biases may have also been mixed in.

Father: 'a --- likely --- male dog with warm thick fur that will occasionally lay down beside me. He sometimes prods me with his nose or cleans me with his tongue. He is very big as his nose is about twice as big as my hands. Though he often seems cold and aloof, he also has a playful side; he is indeed a reassuring man --- male --- worthy of respect.' For a baby of Tic's size, Gabis --- a wolf and Zira's companion --- who stands nearly 3ft (~0.9m) to the shoulder would seem humongous.

Mother: 'she is always nearby, making sure I am properly fed, kept warm, and cleaned regularly. Just recently, she happily introduced me to the rest of the litter. Her nose is a little smaller than Body Warmer's.' As a new mother to a litter of six plus one, she was extremely attentive to her little ones, encouraging them to eat, making sure they stay clean, and keeping them within her sights at all times. Due to Tic's comparative lack of animation, Zira pays him extra attention to make sure he is well fed and safe. There had already been one incident where the other pups attempted to feed on him while she was sleeping, resulting in a dozen or more hickeys all over Tic's body.

Old Man a.k.a. Papa: 'a rough idiot who does not understand that baby's cannot support themselves. Mother and Mama have nipped him a few times in my defense. I have found the best way to avoid his man-handling is to feint sleeping when I am with Mother and siblings --- she usually keeps him at bay with a few growls --- and pretend I am ravenously hungry when I am with Mama --- she is extremely reluctant to hand me off when I am eating.' Carde, the family bread winner, is often out all day around this time of year either preparing the fields for planting or hunting wild game --- occasionally bringing Gabis for company. Of late, he has been unabashedly wearing the ears of ignorant listeners about his new baby and all he has planned for the little one.

Mama: 'an overfeeder. When telling her that Mother already fed me, she would press my face more firmly into her boob until I drank an amount she was satisfied with. While Mother takes care of everything else, Mama is the human who changes my diaper most frequently. Rather, Mama may not be mama as Mother is around much more frequently, but the lack of sensation of fur on my skin would suggest I may not be a dog, thus making it more likely that Mama is mama and Mother is not mother.' Given Mira's role as a wife, it is only expected that she must look after their home and cook meals, so having Zira look after Tic along with her own pups has been a great boon for her. If their is anything to worry about, it is that Tic has not been very vocal about his needs, usually giving little more than a grumble when needing to be changed, fed, or put to sleep. Mira worries about Tic's lack of appetite, given he frequently refuses to drink more than a few sips of milk in a feeding.

With blurry vision and a severe lack of strength, Tic would listen to his surroundings to try and make sense of the environment. Wood sliding and tapping against wood could be heard before or after the sound of crudely made metal hinges creaking, suggesting someone had entered or left the house.

"..."

Carde entered through the front door covered in dirt and sweat, "Good Evening Mira, Gab. Is Tic sleeping with Zira and her pups again?"

Without taking her attention from preparing dinner, Mira replied, "He always taking a nap around this time. I'm sure he'll wake up in a little bit."

"Are you sure it's okay? Those pups aren't going to try eating him alive again are they?" He reminded with a tinge of concern and amusement. There have been a few occasions where, he had wanted to say good bye to Tic before leaving for work, only to find him being sucked on by the little wolf pups. The first time, his half asleep brain thought Tic was being eaten by the little gluttons. The ruckus he stirred and abrupt movement earned him a good nip on the hand by Zira, who had been soundly sleeping next to her litter. Despite his concern as a father, the sight of Tic covered in hickies was an amusing show of his son's popularity --- at least with the little wolf pups --- and reminded him of a certain friend from his younger days.

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'Papa is back again. Time for a nap.'

Wooden tableware could be heard clattering in the dining room as Carde and Mira set the table for dinner. Once dinner preparations were completed, Tic's nap was interrupted by a pair of large rough hands carefully pulling him from the pile of pups. Without regard for Tic's attempt to extend his sleep, Tic was abruptly turned about and his bottom exposed to the cool air.

"N~n!" 'Could you be a little more considerate for these old-young bones? Just let me rest in peace.' Given that he could not communicate or swing his fists in protest, Tic could only tense up in displeasure and complain in his heart at.

"..."

"Outside is clean, check. Diaper is clean, check." Checking Tic over was Carde's way of greeting his son after returning from work. It is a father's duty to look after the growth of his boys after all.

"Okay, lets get some grub. Zira there is some food for you so you may as well come and eat with the rest of us while the pups are still sleeping." Carde quietly motioned for Zira to come and take a break from her needy pups while she could and enjoy some time with the rest of the family.

From Carde's arms, most objects were either too far away or obscured by his blanket; however, he could make out the transition in lighting as he was carried into the common room. The gentle flickering of light, radiant heat, and soothing sound of crackling embers came from an open fireplace to the left when exiting the bedroom. A few steps forward was enough for Carde to take his seat at the table. From the table one could smell the fragrant pot of hot soup: wild meat from one of Carde's hunts and a few preserved vegetables from last year's harvest where the most recognizable. If the smell of soup was not enough, the freshly baked bread smelled so delicious, it even made Tic's undeveloped and overfed mouth water.

'Ah~, fresh bread! Just a bite, can I at least have just a nibble?' Tic complained while trying to peak at the table's contents.

"..."

"Here, I will take him while you finish your dinner, then you can have him back." Said Mira while noticing Tic's reaction to the smell of food. She could not give him soup or bread but she would at least try to fill him up with some breast milk.

"How are the fields this year?" Mira prompted to fill the silence.

With some fatigue, Carde gave his honest opinion, "There was not as much snow this winter, so we may have a dry spell this year. It will likely be a tough year for the farmers."

Concerned for the other local housewives, she asked, "Do you think there will be enough wild game to support everyone?"

Savoring a spoonful of his wife's cooking, Carde contemplated before responding, "If we can get a few more men to help hunt during the migration periods, we should be able to get enough, but it also depends on how much is demanded as tax this year."

As his parents ate and conversed, Tic listened to their words, trying to decipher their likely meanings based on the changes in tone. By the time the meal was finished, he could only gather that something was inconvenient but likely did not directly affect his family. After dinner, Carde sat in front of the fireplace with Tic in his arms while Mira cleaned up the table and Zira and Gabis checked on their pups who started crying for food. For a good hour, Tic stared up at Papa, his grizzly chin, dirty cotton shirt, and worn leather vest suggested that he was not privy to many luxuries, but could at least earn enough to make a modest living. Until it was time for bed, all three men of the house silently contemplated fire what future troubles will be awaiting them in the coming year.

'If I am not mistaken, babies go through a few phases: rolling, crawling, standing, walking. I also need to learn the local language and ... yeah, I need to figure out what they use for a toilet.'

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'I have been able to roll from my back to my belly and vice versa, but these little siblings are already starting to lift themselves up and take a few steps. Even if Mama is happy, as the eldest, I still feel pressured. Mother is earnestly trying to help me, but I need more strength and coordination.'

At best Tic can prop up his butt or head and drag himself in a desired a little bit at a time, he is far from fast enough to outrun his lovingly gluttonous little siblings. Even as pups that could hardly walk, they still had the instincts of wolves, hunting their prey as a pack and attacking as a group. The sight of Tic desperately trying to escape across the wooden floor with his stumbling puppy pursuers eagerly chasing behind was a sight that could even make the stoic Gabis wag his tale in amusement. Only when he made his way onto the stone threshold of the fireplace or was being smothered by his little siblings would someone come to his rescue.

Though being able to move around resulted in Mama and Mother being more cautious, it also allowed him to more freely investigate the house. The dining table is directly in front of Tics bedroom with four chairs on two sides and one side tight against the wooden exterior wall. It was likely that the wood used was a very common local building material as it seemed to be used for the walls, furniture, floors, and even as firewood. The furniture is likely also made by local small town craftsmen, as their designs are without embellishment and of similar construction. Though they could be considered bland, the construction is sturdy enough to not fall apart even if it was used for butchering a large animal.

On the same wall --- in the corner furthest from Tic's room --- is the main entrance, dropping down one step onto smooth stone, one could feel a slight draft come in from under the thick wooden door. Peaking under the door allowed Tic to get a glimpse of the cobblestone path leading away from his home and a small portion of the grassy front lawn. Unfortunately, the first time he crawled down to the stone floor he did not realize how hard it would be to pull himself up again. It also didn't help when his little siblings where either waiting above or climbing over him. More often than not he had to suffer in silence among the shoes and boots until one of his parents took pity on him and carried him up. He was even slightly grateful to his rough Papa for giving him a lift.

Continuing clockwise around the room, the next area is the kitchen bench. From Tic's limited view, he could only make out that the lower area is filled with a variety of heavy pots and pans, likely made from cast or forged iron or a similarly common metal. The lower shelf has a large enough gap to fit a few fingers through, but is much too small to crawl under; however, he did catch a glint of shiny metal.

Against the wall opposite the dining table is the fireplace, which also doubles as a cooking stove. Made from stone and grout, it can retain a notable amount of heat even after the fire has burned out. There is nothing to keep people from falling into the fire so the surrounding area is a prohibited zone for the little ones --- Tic included.

Directly to the right of Tic's bedroom is a second sleeping area for the Carde and Mira, but it is often closed off. Further down and on the same wall as the stove, is a door that Tic suspects leads to a storage area or back door given it is where his parents bring in firewood and cooking ingredients. Given the interior doors did not have latches, it was only a matter of Tic needing to push or pull with enough force to get into these rooms. Unfortunately, the creaking of hinges always alerts his parents preventing him from going further.

There is no need to get worked up. One only needs to be patient, waiting for the right opportunity.