He began to experiment. He had realized for some time that he wasn't human, not only because of his rapid growth and that of his siblings, but also because of the fact that his ears were on top of his head and not on the sides, and because they were wolf ears, not human ears. Add to that the tail sprouting from behind him and the sharp claws on his hands, which, to his surprise, were retractable. This surprised him because he thought he was some kind of wolf, not a cat.
His hair, that of his siblings and his mother, was gray, and his body had a very high elasticity, which he attributed to his apparent youth. However, what truly surprised him about his body was his strength.
When his siblings were asleep, he would get up to practice. He had noticed that the more he concentrated, the more strength he was able to draw from his small frame. Not only that, but the environment around him would change, and he would enter a state in which he felt like he was submerged in water. He was able to easily jump to the ceiling of the room he was in and float in the air for a few seconds; it was as if he had entered a different state of consciousness. So, while his siblings slept and his mother was doing whatever in the room above him, he would dedicate himself to practicing. He decided to call that state "sunken," because of how he felt.
One day out of the blue, his mother did something she'd never done before. She left the door open. The light that came through hurt his eyes for a few moments, but he recovered quickly, almost hypnotized by its beauty. He didn't know he wanted to get out of that place so badly until he laid eyes on the light. Step after step, his feet brought him closer to the exit without him even noticing. Just as he was about to take that final step, he turned around. He didn't understand why he did it, but he saw his brothers watching him. Several of them were shivering, covered in the furs that kept them warm at night. Only his second and sixth brothers were at the foot of the stairs, but they weren't looking at the light. They were watching him. Their faces were expressionless, like his mother's. For a moment, he thought he heard them talking without moving their lips. They asked and said many things — What are you doing? Mom's going to get mad! What do you see from there? Is it cold? Is there food? Come back! Do you smell something!? I'm hungry!— he was able to understand just by looking at them, he didn't know how but he was able to understand what they were saying without words, in the dark it would have been impossible even with his great night vision, but now it was extremely obvious, so natural that it was impossible for him not to try to tell them something, so he just stood in front of the backlit door and managed to convey an — I'll go see— as arrogantly as possible, the other children's eyes opened wide, he didn't know if it was because they understood it too and were surprised or because they were offended by his arrogance, his response came an instant later — you can talk!? — was what they all communicated in unison, it was then that he realized that he was the only one who hadn't been communicating all this time.
He turned around, so they wouldn't notice how embarrassed he felt and left the basement.
His mother was nowhere to be seen, but her scent was. Her scent combined with another, stronger scent, which for a moment sent him into an almost frantic state of alert. His heart raced, as did his breathing. Without realizing it, he had entered his "sunken" state, but after a few moments, he decided to calm down. The scent was mixed with his mother's, and despite being able to tell that the possessor of that scent was strong, he didn't feel any danger. It wasn't difficult for him to guess whose scent it was, so he didn't think too much of it and decided to continue investigating his new surroundings.
He found himself in a house made of wood, a cabin to be exact, a huge cabin. Maybe it was because he was so small, but the cabin seemed gigantic. Half of it was buried underground, and the walls were a combination of stone and logs that looked strong and sturdy. A huge area of the cabin served as a kitchen, and a table much larger and thicker than the one he and his brothers used was placed in front of another fireplace. This one was much larger than the one in the basement where he lived. In fact, the place was decorated with furs, and most of the furniture was carved from a single piece of wood; everything looked really expensive.
Suddenly he heard a bag fall to the floor, he turned quickly and noticed his mother standing there staring at him, still expressionless, however now that there was light he was able to understand —too soon, doesn't it scare you?— from his mother, they weren't words, he was able to read her body language, she spoke with every little movement of her body, every little detail of what she did, her posture, the potion of her head, her hands, legs, a language capable of saying so much without words, he looked at her and tried to answer clearly —a little! He's very strong— he said with an effort, she looked at him without answering immediately and placed her hands over her eyes and then said —terrible— or at least that was what he understood and apparently —why?— it escaped him aloud, his mother continued looking at him expressionlessly and he didn't know but behind that beautiful and expressionless face a storm of confusion and fear was churning.
His mother didn't spend much time at home; apparently, she had work outside the home, so he was soon alone again. He continued exploring, though he didn't find anything to entertain himself with so he returned to the basement with his brothers who moved away from him in fear, possibly due to the strong person's scent that permeated him. He didn't care and just climbed into bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
As the days passed, his mother continued to leave the door open, and little by little, his brothers began to go out on their own. He went out all the time since it gave him more time to practice his "sunken" state without interruptions. But soon, there was no place to practice. His brothers spent more time outside the basement, which was their room. Fights became more common, and his brothers continued to grow stronger.
One day, the seven brothers stayed up late, something they didn't normally do. That day, the door opened, and the person who came in wasn't their mother.
He was two heads taller than their mother, muscular-built, and his gaze was penetrating, making it easy to see that he was very strong.
Despite being a baby, he didn't need to be told that he was his father. He'd guessed it the moment he'd opened the door, as his scent permeated the entire cabin. His brothers, on the other hand, all ran to hide in the basement as soon as they noticed his presence, terrified, all except him. His father watched him, he watched his father, he remembered from his past life that he shouldn't look wild animals in the eyes because they would think it was a challenge, so he kept his gaze around, watching him but not looking directly into their eyes. He didn't know how much of that information applied in this world, but in his current state, he wasn't willing to find out.
His father approached him and lifted him by the neck and placed him in front of him. There was no escape now; he had to look him in the eye, so he did. His father frowned, an expression he hadn't seen on anyone in his family until now, before returning to a blank expression. He placed him back on the floor and sat down at the table.
A few moments later, his mother walked in. She saw him standing there staring at his father, who was staring at him. His mother communicated, "go down stairs" with her body language, and he did so without hesitation. As he left, all he could think was, "Dad is cool"
As the days went by, encounters with their "father" became more frequent, although it took a while for the other six siblings to get used to him; eventually, they stopped running at his mere presence.
On the other hand, he never saw his father pick up any of his siblings.
One night, his mother sent for the seven of them. That day had been strange. His mother bathed them all, even though she normally only bathed them once every two or three days, and never all at the same time. First, she smelled them and decided who should be bathed, but that day, she didn't. That day, she bathed them and applied oil to all of them—it smells good, he thought, not understanding much of what was happening. Once they were bathed and perfumed, his mother left the basement, and when she came back down, she was carrying a chest in her hands. It was strange to see his mother carrying such a large object, since it was almost twice her size.
She placed it on the floor and opened it. Inside were strange furs and fabrics. She called them one by one. He was the first. His mother took his measurements and gave him two items of clothing, showed him how to put them on, and called another. Seventh thought it was funny that she called second brother after him. He called them by numbers because they didn't have names. He didn't know if this culture used them, so he named them in his head so as not to confuse them. Second was the second largest, so that's what he called him. After second was the one he called first brother, and to his surprise, the rest came in the order he had imagined.
Once dressed, their mother showed them where they should put their extra clothes and told them to wait to be called. "You must wait here until I tell you to." She let them know with that body language that had been so hard for him to learn at first.
It took a long time before they were finally called. Their mother arranged them in front of their father in the same order she'd dressed them, sat them down in front of him, and began to speak with her usual elegant body language. "From right to left, oldest to youngest, these are the ones who survived past their first year of being born," their mother said. If a normal person had been in that room, all they would have seen was a bunch of children, a woman and a man sitting in a circle saying nothing, in complete silence, but for those of the same race the place was chaos. All the children had burst into screams of complaint, even the one he called second, who was the most stoic of them, had begun to complain. "That's not possible, Mother! He's too small! Everyone here is bigger than him! This must be a joke!" they all shouted, in their unique body language, all except one.
—Wait, so first is third and I'm seventh but first, but that makes sixth the seventh — he thought, trying to make sense of the situation, he was confused and that was just the beginning.
—Come— His father indicated, he was startled but obeyed, his father didn't bother to explain anything about the situation to the confused pups, he called him and as soon as he was within reach the huge man took him by the shoulder with his right hand and said — YOUR NAME SHALL BE WAIL— with his voice, not with the body language with which they had all communicated up to that moment, Wail was in shock, he couldn't move, his breathing quickened and his heart felt like it was going to explode, but not just because he had heard the one he had assumed was his father speak, no. It wasn't just because even though he had never heard that language he had understood the words perfectly, no.The reason for his surprise was how offensive the name was, Wail's eyes were wide open in surprise, he was trembling, he didn't understand why but he knew that it was an extremely offensive name, an insult and for the first time since he was reborn in this world he felt like crying, but he held it back, he tried to make sense of the situation, maybe he was wrong, maybe that name didn't mean what he thought it meant. But no one was going to answer his questions, his father told him to go back to his place and when Wail didn't move his mother took him by the arm, dragged him and sat him down.
His father looked at his second brother and indicated that he should come closer. He looked at him for a moment and said, "Your name will be Growl," again with his voice, not his body language.
"Growl," Wail sank down. He knew what Growl meant, just as he knew what his name meant. His father did the same with all of his brothers one after the other. Grul, Clak, Bru, Quek, Drok, were the names his brothers received in that order. Each one was acceptable, some with incredible meanings, but his would be called Wail.
When his father finished naming them, they were sent to sleep. All of his brothers fell asleep almost instantly except for him. A question swirled in his mind, not letting him rest. "Why?"