The Sun Says HELLO

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“Dad!”

The little iceling complained loudly, straining against his hold to try and get away from his tongue and the bath he was trying to give her. She didn't want to be cleaned by someone else; she knew how to clean herself, and wanted to do it on her own. Despite her early onset protests, her father had still picked her up and set about his self-appointed task.

“Dad, I can do it,” She said. Her normally quiet nature was overshadowed by two facts: fact one was that it was her dad; fact two was that she was a stubborn and independent girl, and liked to do things by herself. This led to her trying to escape his hold, not realizing that she was twisting one of her legs in the process.

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The tiny iceling huffed at him, pale green eyes squeezing closed as she fought to wriggle away from him, completely oblivious to the way her leg turned in a way that many would find painful. She tumbled forward when he released her, face meeting the dirt in the ungainly way that puppies often contended with. It was only when she stood to turn around and face him again that she found her leg momentarily unable to hold her chubby weight, turning to glare, confused, as it buckled beneath her.

Butt on the ground, Katja frowned mightily. Her father’s instruction passed her by in the moment as the girl tried to sort out what had just happened. Looking up at him, Katja looked just as confused as before. “Why’s my leg not working?”
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“Why?” She questioned him, that young stare demanding answers before she went to see the medic. Besides, it seemed to get better and better as time wore on; she had been testing it as she sat there, until she could firmly place her paw on the ground once more. That test successful, the green eyed girl stood — carefully — with her gaze now pointed down at her leg to watch it tremble for a moment before it went away.

Next, she took one step. Then another. Then a few more. “I'm fine. See?”

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She opened her mouth to protest, to insist that she would know if her leg was missing. It was her leg and she was not a dumb-dumb. But he said please, and he and Mother had taught them their manners. When someone said please, it was good to listen to them. At least right now, until she was older, they said. “Who's Quicksilver?” She asked after a small, short huff.

“It's when you have to eat,” She answered, as matter-of-fact as a puppy could be, even if she was wrong. She had no clue that hunger felt like something squeezing your stomach, that she could get headaches and feel weak when she did not eat. She answered with what she knew, without knowing that there was much more to it than that.

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“He leads with you and Mother?” For the little iceling had not heard of another pack just yet, though she would absorb the information all the same. If she was to rise to the challenge of the gods Mother had mentioned, then Katja would need to learn all that she could as quickly as she could.

She paused, frowning as her young mind processed that inner statement. If she was going to learn a lot... Did the mean she had to listen to Dad now?

“Because crying is dumb,” She would answer with slight indignance. She had never cried; not when she was born, and not since. Her siblings did, but Katja had never felt the need nor the desire. As for his second question, she thought about it for another moment before she threaded together a somewhat question-formed answer. “Well... You and Mother told' me to. And I'm s'posed to lissen?” She huffed then, her frown deeping. “I don' undersand.”

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