As dawn broke, a soft golden light spilled into the mouth of the cave. The pup eventually woke up and, feeling the chill of his mother's fur, decided to nuzzle against her face and body, licking her to show affection and comfort.
The goddess stirred slowly at the sudden sensation, still sleepy.
'Oh, it's my savior! Good morning to you too!' she thought as she began to groom the little pup's morning fur. 'Since we're going to spend quite some time together, I should give you a name... Furfur.'
In that moment, a gentle glow appeared around the little pup, seemingly reaching out to him, and as another moment passed, it flowed inside Furfur. A golden light shimmered in his eyes.
Several days passed.
She began teaching the little pup the art of hunting, easily finding rabbits and showing Furfur how to sneak up on one and catch it.
Watching the pup as he slowly made his way out of the bushes, she noted how he maintained steady breath, poised to chase after his first prey.
The goddess listened to the quiet around her, but thoughts began to invade her mind.
'These days, I've stopped acting like myself. Nothing stops me from leaving, but I just can't. I could take the form of a boulder and sleep for thousands of years, but I'm afraid to do so...'
Meanwhile, Furfur was having the hunt of his life; he felt as though he could run forever without tiring. He grazed the rabbit with his claws, the scent of blood filling his nostrils, igniting a sudden surge of power. Furfur pounced once more, finishing off the rabbit and indulging in the taste of fresh blood.
But she wasn't there.
Always at his side, she now lingered in the bushes as he celebrated his first hunt. Her gaze drifted elsewhere, seemingly uninterested, ignoring his moment of triumph. A part of him ached to bring the prey to her, to lay it at her feet as a gift, yet she remained distant, her attention unfixed and unmoved.
Instead, he began devouring the meat in front of him until only the bones remained. Then, slowly, he returned to her.
The goddess was jolted from her thoughts at the sound of Furfur's soft whines. Her gaze fell upon him, his snout smeared with fresh blood, and she realized he had taken down his first prey—a small rabbit. A surge of pride filled her chest as she watched him, her little hunter beginning to find his own way. I'll prepare a feast in his honor, she thought, a smile tugging at her lips.
But Furfur was uncomfortably bloated, a sensation unfamiliar to him. Normally, he'd share the meager scraps of meat with his brother, but this time, he'd devoured more than ever before. From the moment he began eating, it felt as if he had fallen under a spell, unable to stop himself, savoring every bite until he was utterly full. Now, with his stomach heavy and his energy spent, a deep drowsiness settled over him.
The two of them made their way toward the cave with measured steps. Once the goddess was assured that her pup was safe and sound, she set off into the wilderness, her gaze sharp as she scouted for game worthy of the feast. Perhaps he'd prefer the tender meat of a bird... or maybe even an entire deer? she mused, a glint of anticipation in her eyes.
But Furfur felt alone. He knew his bigger brother had probably left to form his own pack, while his mother gave him less and less attention, always leaving him by himself. The time for him to make his own pack was approaching.
Minutes bled into hours, and at last, Furfur stirred. Feeling restless, he rose and padded to the cave's mouth, his eyes adjusting to the light outside as he took his first steps beyond the sheltering stone.
Who would have guessed that just five minutes after he left, his mother returned, struggling to drag a whole deer across the cave? "Furfur? Where did he go? He was here just a moment ago!" Her sense of time was comically distorted.
Meanwhile, Furfur ventured deeper into the woods, hoping to find his brother and see his pack. Perhaps he would show off or offer Furfur a place in his new pack, and his pace quickened with each hopeful thought.
Why would he leave me? I always provided him with the best food, helped him hunt his first prey, and protected him. Am I not as good as his real mother? The goddess couldn't help but let her negative thoughts spiral while searching for him. Something must have happened to him! She felt a pang of inferiority.
Night fell as Furfur delved deeper into the forest until his nose twitched, drawn by a rich, savory aroma wafting through the air. Ahead, he spotted a large man seated by a crackling fire, expertly roasting fish over the flames. The scent was irresistible, tugging at his senses and stirring a deep hunger within him.
Yet, as Furfur crept closer, a dark presence stirred in the shadows of the trees. The same black bear—the one that had nearly killed him once before—had caught the scent too.
But before the bear could head toward the delicious smell, it spotted Furfur. Its eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed with fury. This was the pup that had escaped last time, slipping from its claws. Now, seeing Furfur alive ignited a fierce anger in the bear—it wanted revenge.