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The White Rose Bud

"Dex, please, trust me on this!" Chase insisted, clinging onto his friend's arm. He tilted his head towards the baking apparatus lined up on the kitchen counter. From whisks, cake pans, and thermometers, to eggs, flour, and yeast.

Dexter looked over, smirking as he continued cutting out colorful bond papers. His friend saw his curved lips, anticipating his approval. But he most certainly knew better, turning to him that heightened the panther's excitement. "No."

"I'm not going to cock it up, scout's honor!" Chase stepped back, raising an arm while dragging his finger in the shape of a cross on his shirt. "I know how much this means to you."

"Chase, I already got a cake for my son." Dexter patted his side as his friend crossed his arms. "All I asked of you is to babysit while I go get the cake, and visit her." With his eyes lowering afterwards. Sadness veered into his chest, still not used to her absence or the responsibility of raising Miles despite that. The black wolf looked around the kitchen, half-expecting a big-bellied white wolf to come into the kitchen asking for a glass of water, or chocolate.

Chase caught on, reaching an arm over to embrace him, and toning down his persistence. "Alright, alright." He nudged Dexter, smiling at him so he could smile back as well. "You're going to be a great father, Dex. And I am here to help you every step of the way." Said with growing emphasis on each word, tail swishing enough to bump against the wolf's.

Dexter set down his scissors and embraced him tightly, clutching as he let tears flow down his muzzle. Wordless, both men shared the loss of an amazing friend and an amazing wife. After a while, his breathing became heavy and into a sob. "I still miss her very much," Dexter's voice quivered.

The panther weeped with him too, "I miss Lexy too, Dex. I'm so sorry," Chase rubbed his back as his friend broke down with his body slumped over him. He did his best to keep both of them upright.

It didn't help Dexter either that his son shared a key similarity to his wife; they both have white fur, whereas his cub had his red eyes. And he couldn't help but feel that the soon-to-be one year old started asking about his mother. And his heart ached at the thought of having to tell him about it. Even in due time when he would show him his mother's resting place. All of these emotions piled on top over the last year. Yet that's where the comfort was.

Chase felt his body lift itself up, catching him beforehand in the worry that Dexter would faint. He didn't, thankfully, though took deep breaths as the wolf held his shoulders, clearing his throat afterwards too.

Dexter realized the fact, being a sad thought at first, that he and Miles had been together for a year. The first few months were full of trial and error on how to raise his cub, all the wall-stains that needed repainting, or the long cries throughout the night. Some other things that mothers normally would know, fortunate enough that he and Chase were able to take care of him and themselves. First of many years, and he shared that notion to his friend.

After listening to these insights, Chase nodded, "I'm still honored that you've entrusted me with this, Dex."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Chase." Dexter composed himself, giving the panther a manly bear hug, thumping his back with a clenched up fist.

"I'll babysit your son, and not bake a cake." He emphasized that last part, copying the same embrace his wolf friend gave to him. "What time are you leaving?"

Dexter's eyes darted to the kitchen clock above the backyard door right behind him, "I'd say an hour or two. Still have to finish preparing the decorations." And he leaned back, grabbing the pair of scissors again. Prior to his reflection, he had been working on paper cutouts that he could glue the letters of Miles' name on them, intending to place it on the living room wall. In addition to that, there would be balloons scattered on the floor that he would let his son crawl around and pop them. Contrary to belief, his son was not afraid of explosions.

"Anything I can help with?" Chase glanced around wanting to make himself useful. Dexter admired that.

"Start inflating some balloons and scatter them on the living room floor. I'll finish the cutouts here," He resumed cutting the paper with the pattern-blade scissors while Chase went for the living room. But after his first cut, he stopped and set it down. "On second thought, I'll go check on my son first, okay?"

His friend turned around between the living room and kitchen, pointing towards the stairs just past the former. "You sure? I could check it on your behalf." Chase gave him a reassuring smile.

Dexter smiled back, walking past him as he patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll be alright this time around."

"I'll be down here if you need anything," Chase kept up until he was at the sofa where the pack of balloons rested, and started inflating them one by one.

Past the living room, into the foyer and onto the stairs upwards. Dexter recalled holding that same glass of water while he escorted his wife up these steps. Despite her hardships, she still cracked a smile and tried to joke around with him.

Alexa's voice echoed as he approached the top step, "Thank you for your escort, Sergeant Fennix, you'll be promoted to Leftenant soon enough." And he recalled her warm stare, past the pain of pregnancy. How he leaned in and pecked her lips, both of them giggling after as they walked slowly, together, to their bedroom.

The door creaked open, Dexter's muzzle peeking through first, followed by his teary-eyes. A fairly large room with its own bathroom, a window with its curtains drawn out, and a dresser that had her self-care items on. His bed was smaller then, enough to be arranged horizontally so there would be more space for the crib in the middle.

There used to be a king sized bed here, where he and Alexa used to lay down together, snuggled up in each other's arms. They spoke of their dreams, of having a child, of retiring. Three days after Miles was born, he finally came home. Dexter cradled him in his arms, silently weeping as he told him of his mother's hopes and dreams, and promises he would fulfill. That he would raise him to be a great person, and that he would keep him safe.

Miles slept soundly in the crib, in a black onesie to contrast his snowy fur. Dexter sat on the bed hunched over, thinking about the weeks that came after. The crib he bought, the mobile that dangled over him. He watched his white furred arms reach out to grab them in fascination. Endless evenings of crying, sometimes not knowing what he needed to do whether to feed or clean him, or sometimes crying because he missed his mother too. The only time he met his mother was the last time they saw her, and that had to change in the coming years.

"I'll do my best, Lexy," Dexter said, knowing she would've listened. The months that came after had lessened his heartaches as he got into the routine. Work distracted him, and Chase was a godsend. He smiled at the thought. And now, a year later to celebrate his first year in this world, he walked over to the crib and carefully lifted and cradled him. Miles was heavier than he was last year, and could already crawl around and stand on his own. The walking part, as well as potty training, he would teach him in the next few months. "I love you, son," he smooched the sleeping cub's forehead, waking him up in a squeaky yawn.

Miles revealed those red eyes, smiling as he saw his father. His little paws tried to reach out for them, instead found his muzzle and leaned forward to teeth on it. "Dah-dah!"

Dexter blocked it with his finger, letting his son bite into it with his developing fangs. His chewing toy was downstairs, cleaned in the dishwasher. "Your toy's downstairs sonny," he bounced his son gently, making him giggle as he kept biting onto his fingers. His nose twitched, but Miles didn't need changing yet. And they left the room, the father's tail wagging which closed the door.

"Chase," Dexter called out from the top of the stairs. "Fetch the camcorder, will you?"

"Where is it?" He peeked out from the living room, holding a deflated balloon. Chase awed at the sight of baby Miles gnawing hungrily at his father's finger. "Awe."

He chuckled, adjusting his arms to keep the blood flowing, Miles yapped out from the motion with his small white tail wagging. "It's in the cabinet under the tv set."

"A-firm," he nodded, but wanted to call Miles' attention. "Hey Miles!"

Dexter slowly pointed his gnawed finger towards the panther, drenched in his son's drool. Miles stared at his father first, and he nudged his head to his friend. "Your uncle Chase is calling you, look!" His tone wasn't capable of curiosity, speaking gruffed and deep.

Miles' train of thought was of his father, followed by the need to gnaw his finger again. His eyes wandered from Dexter's red eyes, to those large black arms, that he associated would lead to his hand that had those fingers he enjoyed biting on. But for once, the black wolf pointed at another black animal downstairs. Reaching out with his body leaned forward, Dexter's arm shifted underneath so he wouldn't fall off. "Dah-dah?!"

Both Dexter and Chase laughed, and in turn made Miles laugh too. "Close enough son," he nuzzled his son's onesie, and blew a raspberry on his stomach.

The young wolf flailed and laughed, stopping when his father stopped. They exchanged looks and Dexter gave him another raspberry, and he flailed and laughed again. Stopped, and again, and stopped after.

By then, Chase had the camcorder out, standing at the bottom of the steps and tinkering with it. He flipped out the screen, turned on the device, and looked up to Dexter. "What're you two going to do?"

Dexter set him down, holding him distant from the step, but his ever curious son wanted to go down and talk to his godfather. "I want you to film him 'walking' down the stairs." The cub's body leaned forward, trying to reach over for the panther. He held his hands up, delicately pulling him to a standing position that he was able to stay still while making more baby noises.

"Alright," Chase chuckled, focusing the camera on the infant whose legs wobbled as his father held him up. He zoomed out a bit so that the Fennix family could be caught on camera, smiling as he hit the record button. "You're good to go."

Dexter nodded, "Okay son, let's go to your uncy Chase." And he lifted him by the arms and had him land on the first step going down. "C'mon, walk for dad now." Tugging one arm forward so that his son's body swung in that direction, emulating a walk while setting him down easily. The first five steps going down were consistent, "Oh my God, he's walking!" His tail thumped against the floor, heart pumped with so much joy that the last few steps going down were gentle hops.

Chase smiled throughout, cooing at Miles and aweing with every descending step. He made sure to capture the whole moment, and after he arrived at the bottom of the stairwell, he continued capturing the young wolf standing still without his father's support.

Miles reached out, wide-eyed, to the panther while discovering his balance while walking. One step at a time, left and right, But his audience's eyes were far wider, the fifth step being his longest so far. Now the sixth, and the seventh. By the time he stopped on his tenth step, he stumbled into a proud Chase's arms, fluff embracing around him. His father embraced both of them too.

"Oh my God he actually did it," Dexter proclaimed, kissing the back of his son's head. His heart thumped against his son teething against the panther's arm fluff. Chase chuckled throughout. Both the father and father-figure were wholly impressed with his simple performance. "You should've caught that on tape instead."

"Oh," Chase nearly swore, "... man, you're right. It's in our minds at least." He tapped his own head, smiling wider. And he turned his attention to the young wolf, nuzzling the top of his forehead as his arm got teethed on. Not too painful but his fangs were sharper. "I think he needs something to eat."

"I'll make it," Dexter went towards the kitchen while Chase lifted the child while still connected to his arm. The best people in his world hung around the kitchen while he fetched the formula from a high shelf, followed by the bottle and its rubber tip from the dishwasher.

Chase glanced outside, noticing that Spring was halfway through its season. "Make sure the milk's cold, yeah?"

Dexter turned to Chase, looking outside after and back to him scooping another of powdered formula into the bottle. That was three scoops. "Yeah." He went to the fridge with the bottle in hand. "I envy him though."

He adjusted Miles in his arms again at the mention, his free fingers massaging his chin as his finger was nommed on by his back teeth. "Why's that?" Miles was still young, and his white fluff hadn't grown yet.

"Fur color. A-" Dexter nearly cussed there, "-nnoying to clean but it's good for regulating heat."

"Do you think he'd become a soldier like you?" Chase wondered, and Miles stopped teething to look at his father too. Those red eyes looked straight at him in curiosity, as if he wanted to know the answer.

He held the fridge's door as he contemplated the question. The thought of his son becoming like him, half-fearing the pain they would endure in active combat. Looking at his son, innocently smiling, wanting to reach out for his father, and to Chase after who had asked a question he didn't want to hear. "It's alright," he opened the door and got a pitcher of cold water, closing it with his elbow as he went back to the kitchen counter. "I'll cross that bridge eventually."

Chase sighed out in relief, "Sorry for asking you still." He joined him, turning Miles to him who grabbed and tugged on his shoulder as his father shook the baby bottle with his other hand.

Miles was passed over to Dexter who led the rubber tip to his lips, and he started suckling on formula while holding the cool bottle in his hands.

"That's a good boy," he pecked his forehead and cradled him for a moment. Would Lexy have wanted him to be a soldier though? Dexter never really thought that far into the future even though he should. His concern was his son's primary and secondary education, what kind of lifestyle would he grow into, and what sort of influence would he leave on him. Not the consideration of his career. He had an idea though, recalling a snippet from a parenting magazine; a child's career can be determined by the preference of their toy.

That said, the older wolf ought to go soon, giving Miles to Chase. "I'll go in a while and get the cake, some toys, and pay her a visit." He gave Chase a reassuring pat on the back.

Chase was already cradling in the same motion Dexter was as he watched Miles drink halfway through his bottle. "You can count on me, sir." He winked at him, given that he couldn't salute.

He chuckled and went past him, through the living room, "His chewing toy is in the dishwasher by the way. I'll get his pacifier when I come back down." Now ascended the staircase, and into his bathroom for a quick fresh-up, a change of clothes in his bedroom. He'd be down ten minutes later with a cleaned, but chewed on, pacifier in hand, just as Miles had finished his meal.

Chase placed the bottle on the counter just above the dishwasher, and started patting the cub's back to make him burp. "There there," as he heard Miles' soft belch.

"Thanks Chase," Dexter presented to him the pacifier. But Chase turned Miles to him to be pacified directly instead. And he pecked his son's forehead, nuzzling his soft cheeks that made the young wolf giggle. "I'll be back in two hours. Miles, you're in charge." He winked at his friend, waving them off as he went back to the living room.

"Hah, funny," Chase snickered and turned to Miles, "Your dad's going to go, wave goodbye to him." He was about to reach for his arm to make the gesture but the young wolf had done it himself, making them awe in unison.

"He's growing by the hour," Dexter felt touched as he grabbed his keys in the foyer. Double checked to have his wallet, brick-like phone, and handkerchief. With all of these on his person, he stepped out into the patio, and onto the front yard.

There were flower bushes that skirted around their patio, with little green stalks yet to bloom daisies. Dexter saw their growing bulb, that it would become a white flower in a matter of weeks. He preferred the white roses he found in the forest, though they didn't grow under these circumstances. Nor has he consulted anyone on how to do it. A gardening magazine talked about having a green thumb, which he thought was literal at first interpretation. Metaphorically, he didn't have it either.

"One of these days, Lexy, I'll grow them for you too." He whispered to himself, continuing onto the driveway. His car was a dark red sedan. Simple and gas-efficient. It had mudguards that he kept forgetting to clean. He would tomorrow, for sure this time.

Dexter got around the driver's side and inserted his keys into the door's hole and unlocked it. He sat inside, taking one last look of his home while reflecting on Chase's question. And he drove off, hoping to find an answer that he and Lexy would love.

The mall was ten minutes away in the most optimal conditions that early Spring had to offer. No snow on the roads, nor traffic from cars breaking down due to frozen engine blocks. Trees he passed by had their leaves adorned on them again, with flowers on their twigs budding. He ought to show Miles in the coming days or weeks when they sprout.

Miles should see the world beyond the town. For the first half of his life, he spent it around the town and no further than that. But given the newfound confidence of being with him for over a year, he should take him sightseeing. That said, he should take him to the mall after seeing the flowers bloom.

The new commercial structure was still under construction, yet they had formally opened with a lot of businesses already thriving within its premises. It was a futuristic aesthetic that made use of geometrical shapes rather than some archaic European design. Smooth concrete and large windows made up the building without compromising its inner heating or cooling- advancements in technology.

Parking was fully available but some of the spaces were taken up by construction equipment, vehicles, and employee cars. He parked near the side of the mall still being worked on because those were the only ones left. Upon stepping out, he saw through the windows that the work was focused on commercial spaces and its necessary infrastructure.

Dexter knew for a fact that one of these would be the recruitment office for the Canadian army. Chase would be the first recruiter because of his enthusiastic personality complimented by an optimistic outlook. It aligned with his plans- leave Miles at daycare that wasn't too far from the office. His friend babysits him during the day, and he himself takes care of him at night. The military base is only about another ten minutes away too, so he could see him every lunch.

Speaking of lunch, he should get some sandwiches for himself and Chase. Maybe poutine to share too. He recalled, on his way to the mall's entrance, the first time he let his son try poutine. Anything that resembled gravy or fries he would always drool over and cry when he couldn't get a taste of it.

Once inside, he looked around with wonder of the aforementioned modern aesthetic. Everything looked sleek and smooth, with more color than just eggshell white. To his dismay, however, there were trees along the hallway that were obviously fake. Everything else felt alive though, with a lot of new and curious mall goers. Trying new and exotic restaurant with cuisines from halfway around the world. Some of the cafes had aesthetics from France, others from Italy. And there was a restaurant inspired by the Middle East, with families lining up outside out of wonder.

Past the restaurants, deeper into the mall, were a lot of specialty stores. There were some dedicated to carpentry, gardening, and even culinary arts. But he found himself paused in front of a new kind of store, one that retailed mobile devices like what he had now. And beside it was something just as unusual: a computer store that sold components similar to military hardware.

"Woah." He went over to that store and stared from the windows. Circuit boards of sorts, something blocky and metal with fans on it. This truly felt like the future. Most of the folks inside were people much older than him. One of them was an officer, a lion, from a different branch of the military as he was wearing marine military fatigues and had a higher rank. They didn't see each other, and he went on not needing to observe camaraderie.

The toy store intersected one of the unopened entrances on the opposite side of where he parked. A place called 'Toys And U', which took up three commercial spots, seemingly the largest store in the mall right now. There were a lot of families going inside, and examining the very diverse toys and other sorts of playthings that catered to a host of demographics. The closer he got, he saw the interior's colorful decorations; toy superheroes, doing flying and action poses, hung just above the action figures section; pink castle decorations where toy princess dolls were; and a display of robotic statues that were surrounded by a curious bunch of youngsters. That last one had Japanese text on its banner that advertised them. Unsure what it meant though.

With that in mind, he ventured into the creative and colorful store, finding out what his son's future would be from this. A lot of the uniformed helpers were too busy with the amassing families. What he had so far were a set of blocks that had colorful letters and shapes on each side of the cube, a fake spatula, and a fake hammer with a construction helmet that would be a little larger than his head. All of these were neatly placed in a basket that clung under his arm as he went between the aisles. While going through the action figures, past the superheroes he had seen on covers of comic books, he saw one that looked like a motorcyclist but with the aesthetics of a wolf. This one was dark blue and silver, and there were some others like it- a red lion, a blue shark, a white tiger, etc.

"Power Rangers," he read the label. The title made it seem like they were American rangers with superpowers, but taking the toy enclosed in plastic, he read the passage on the back: 'Power Rangers are individuals that devote their lives to protect the world from the evil Master Org.' The jargon went on, and all he could gather from it was people in colorful costumes fighting a cartoon bad guy. Rest of the text mentioned that this was from a new tv show. With the wolf Power Ranger having a silvery outfit, somewhat like Miles', he ought to get it for him. Thus the Silver Wolf toy went into the basket.

Paying for all of these toys was not too expensive at least. There were some flashy and futuristic toys that Dexter had not seen in his life. A young platypus clung onto his father's jeans, who had been holding a box with the letters 'G.P.', which moments later, when he got a better look, read 'Game Platform'. It looked so small, almost like those objects in the computer store earlier. But it had a walloping price of $299! His eyes widened seeing the numbers on the cash register. When it was his turn, he thought back to it and compared that all of his toys amounted to only $40.

"Alright, time for cake." He stepped out of the toy store, with him then a paper bag. There was a bakery somewhere near the restaurants he had passed earlier. He was particular about this one as they had low-sugar chocolate cake. The harrowing incident when Miles was eight months old and Chase let him try a piece of milk chocolate. The youngster crawled all over the bedroom, and the amount of duties he gave Chase during their work hours was justified.

There it was, 'Bakes and Cakes', between an Indian and Japanese restaurant. Apart from the latter's contrasting scent, he could distinguish the bakery's sweet confections, walking in to be greeted by the heat of fresh bread, and the sound of light chatter and baking tips. It had the decor of a bricked room, except for modern furniture like the sleek light fixtures, and the fridges housing cakes, cold cuts, and even fruit juices. The cake he sought for was in them, cold and ready to be consumed or reheated. 'Low Chocolate, Low Caffeine Cake', for a price of about $12. There were other pastries he could buy to satiate his immediate hunger. Maybe bring some home for his wards back home too. He added two croissants, an order of a BLT sandwich for Chase, the picky eater, and a ham and cheese sandwich for himself. All of it was about $22, and he was still irked by that toy box he came across.

With all his errands here done, he went back to his car and ate his sandwich as he cooled the car's interior after having soaked up sunlight for an hour. The quick meal he had was delightful and he would order it again next time. Could use more ham though, and tomatoes too. And so Dexter drove off in the direction of his home.

He went past the turn that led to his house, all his prior thoughts focused into one. The memory of that night, being a lone car that trailed through the road that skirted around a mountain. Chase rode shotgun with him, and on the passenger's seat behind him was Alexa. Dearest Alexa, resting peacefully in her casket. The way was smooth until the sudden left turn onto the dirt road, where it had gotten bumpy.

"I'll keep her safe," Chase said monotonously as he reached around the back and held down the blanket and the casket itself to the seat, even as the seatbelts did little to keep it still.

Dexter slowed down the pace, prolonging the pain of having to see her like this. His eyes glanced back on the rear view mirror, both his and Chase's tears welled down as they followed the dirt path. He himself couldn't say anything, and any attempt he did would result in muttering. The back of his mind hoped the day he would go through this road without the pain of a torn heart.

While that day hadn't come yet, it did not sting as much as he drove through these muddied roads once again, and under the midday sun. The windows were rolled down this time, taking in the scent of nature's grass dews, and the upcoming scent of blooming white roses. Further down were bushes around the trees, on both sides of the path, where these thornless flowers exposed its pristine and pure petals. He turned the car closer to the left side, picked one off by its stalks, and held it with him on the driving wheel as he neared her final resting place.

The tell would be the gentle river that followed along the path. Not too far now, Dexter sighed. Normally his sorrow of that evening would linger, but he felt his redemption through his son being alive and well this long. Sure there would be times when Miles would question why he didn't have a mother. The confusion and jealousy that other children had. He stopped there and opened his door, turning off the car's engine. Every time that eventually was considered, he couldn't bear to answer him straight. Tears poured out, flowing down his cheeks as he hugged the white rose to himself.

"What should I tell him, Lexy?" He saw her distant grave, always hoping to have an answer. A whisper, a sign, something that could tell him what to tell his son. After another few minutes of bawling out, Dexter mustered up the willpower to step out, sneakers sinking into the mud, as he trudged his way to her grave.

Each step recollected that evening's sequence. The hour long crying, followed by several more hours of having to dig her grave by hand, and having to bury it in the dirt just the same too. Chase had gone with his car to come back with provisions, and a wolf chaplain to memorialize and mark their area.

Alexa's grave still had stalks of white roses that hadn't bloomed, and Dexter left one that did. Whispering in a sullied and sweet voice, "I love you very much. I love our son very much." And this was where he felt the turning point.

"You should've seen it earlier, Lexy." Dexter sounded happier for the first time in six months, recalling the healthy growth of his half-a-year old child then. "He walked all the way to uncle Chase!" The black wolf smiled, reaching out to touch her grave like he would caress her cheek. "I'll show you the video next week, okay? Our baby is going to become a man. I just know it." His tail thumped, chuckling at the silliness but symbolic importance of showing her the video.

"This doesn't hurt as much anymore, Lexy. Not today at least. Not on the day Miles turns one year old." He felt proud of that fact, kneeling down as he reflected on the best things that would come with his son's growth; playing catch, watching movies, maybe even teaching him how to ride a bike too. And that was when he realized the fun he would have in the future, and not solely on pondering about her absence. Dexter held the gravestone with both hands, his eyes focused on her name, "Lexy, I promise to be the best parent I can be for our son. I will love and cherish him twice and more, now that you're watching us from above. I love you very much, and I love our son."

The wind blew gently between the leaves of the trees, and around the trunks and above the bushes behind him. White roses swayed towards their direction, and the breeze surrounded Dexter, enough to caress his cheek that had nudged him to look up. The clouds did not intrude the sun, nor the full moon that appeared faintly in the blue sky.

"Thank you." He whispered to the heavens, and glanced back down to her grave and kissed the stone. "I love you," he said one more time, before he returned to his car. The wind breezed through him in the same manner earlier, an assurance that everything would be alright.

Dexter kept the window down as he drove out of the forest, mud skidding the road below his car. He would clean it tomorrow for sure. Anything else from the following day last year was pushed back, remembering it vividly as he took the turn into his neighborhood. The memory of Chase being the first to step out with his backpack and paper bag full of groceries and other infant needs. And himself following after, with a furless Miles swaddled in cloth, and on his arms. "Welcome home, son," he whispered to him.

Today, he parked by the driveway. On the right window he saw Chase holding Miles whose small hands held against the window. A smile on his face as the panther bounced him. Dexter got off and locked the car behind him, pastries and gift in hand. The pair watching him went to the front door, unlocking it and greeting him after.

Dexter and Chase swapped what they had on hand, the former hugging his son to him as he walked around their patio. "Hey Chase," he called him.

Chase stopped and stepped back, peeking from the doorway. "Yeah?"

Dexter paused for a moment to look at his happy boy, and smiled back at him. "Thanks."

"It's no problem, Dex."

He looked out into the driveway, imagining himself standing there looking back at the household. There he saw the resemblance of a normal family; a father coming home from work to be greeted by his partner and child. In this case it would be his best friend, and he was the second best person he could've asked for. "We look like a family."

Chase blushed at that, chuckling, "Yeah, we do. I'm glad to be a part of it."

"I got you a sandwich by the way, and a croissant for Miles to try. Put the cake in the fridge, okay?" He nuzzled his son's forehead. "Low sugar because I don't want you to get all hyper again." Miles giggled. "No high sugar for you."

"Got it!" Chase went towards the kitchen. He left the toys by the living room of course, and put the cake into the refrigerator. The sandwich he ate straight from its paper wrapper, the croissant he placed on a plate, served with some unsalted butter for Miles. Stepping out with said plate and fork after finishing his sandwich, he started feeding the young wolf his croissant.

Miles delighted in the warm and grainy taste of the pastry, complemented with its creamy condiment. They watched the afternoon sky together, pointing out the birds in a flock flying back towards the north. Canadian Geese, a species of waterfowl that even the armed forces feared. In fact, they hid under the patio as their formation flew over their homes.

And in the next hours, with the Fennix family back inside, the afternoon had turned to evening with a faint light crackling from the living room's window. The skies were empty of those ferocious birds, only one owl flying silently with the backdrop of twinkling skies. The moon was barely there, a slight curve on the right side, yet remained everpresent and beautiful.

"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." Dexter and Chase sang as they placed the cake on the kitchen table they had brought over from the next room. There was one lit candle firmly planted in the middle of the double-layered pastry.

Miles' eyes focused on the light orange glow, his red eyes gone redder through its gaze. Chase documented the moment, and Dexter moved around to embrace him from behind. Also made sure he wouldn't hurt himself knowing his son might try and grab it.

After their song ended, Dexter said, "Alright Miles, blow out the candle." Leaning forward to have his muzzle in his son's view, opening his mouth but not exhaling too hard. Enough to have the flickered flame sway.

Miles understood and did it a bit too hard, his spittle flew over the flame as it was extinguished. His father clapped in joy, and Chase too with one free hand tapping against his arm. The young wolf could make out the shapes in the dark, clapping his arms as he shouted in joy, giggling that had stirred the room.

Chase turned on the lights, still recording as Dexter barraged his son's head with fatherly kisses, prolonging the giggles and merry noises. His camera focused on the rest of the room, with low hanging colorful paper mache similar to that of a 'fiesta', and Miles' name spelled out on the wall using colorful paper and tape.

"Happy Birthday, son," Dexter told him. He turned to Chase, locking eyes with him, to eyeball the paper bag on the chair.

"On it," Chase walked over and fetched the bag, passing it to Dexter and Miles whose eyes were now affixed on it. He stood back at the same position again, recording Dexter opening the bag and spilling its contents right in front of his son.

"Y'know," Dexter said, "I took your question earlier and decided to find out what my son wants to do when he grows up."

"And you think toys are a good determiner of that?" Chase looked over the objects. A spatula, hammer with its helmet, the thing doctors use, and a toy biker still in its cover. Was it really a biker? The helmet was supported by a spandex suit and it was far from what their old gang wore. He moved closer, Miles only focused on the same thing the panther was too.

"A Power Ranger from what it says on the back. Protects the world or something." Dexter explained in the best way he could. "Based on a TV show from what I've heard but I haven't seen it on TV yet." He shrugged.

"I thought you wanted him to be a biker because the helmet does look nice." He noted how the Power Ranger's helmet resembled that of a wolf's. That said, maybe he should get one for himself whenever he meets with the 'Ol 'Fellowship of the Alpha' again. "Sounds more like a police officer after you've mentioned it. Or, y'know."

"A soldier, yeah." Dexter sighed out, reaching over his son who tried to bash it open. He tore around the hard plastic cover with his claws and released the toy from its confines. Giving it to Miles who immediately waved it around before hugging it into his arms. "That wouldn't be too bad, actually. Maybe Lexy would've liked it too."

Chase stopped recording and went over to his best friend's side and hugged him. "Dex, she would be so proud of you if he did. As long as he lives the future you want for him." He smiled, assuring the wolf smiling back at him.

He thought about her smiling too. Remembering her saying that she would be fine as long as Miles lived well. And by God he would guarantee that. Looking down to his son who was making faces at the toy he tilted side to side. Both adults spent the next few minutes watching their son play around. Dexter recalled his youth, with his fascination for bikes. How he spent most of his days strolling around his neighborhood somewhere further West. Maybe his son would have the same fascination too.

Chase glanced outside again, "I know this is an important moment for you, Dex." He got his friend's attention, glancing at the window too. Even Miles caught on and looked at the night forest outside. "Are you gonna howl tonight?"

"Most definitely. Put the cake in the fridge and record me howling out. Miles here," he glanced down and nuzzled his forehead, "couldn't do it. Couldn't even mimic it if he tried."

"Alright," Chase reached over and took the cake away. Miles didn't care, fixated on the toy that he was swinging around.

Dexter got up, carrying Miles in his arms and went to the front door. He put on his coat, draping it over himself enough to cover Miles too. They went through the living room and the kitchen, where Chase stowed the cake and helped himself to a small serving of poutine. Stepping out through the windowed door and into their back yard. The neighborhood was calm, lights emanated from the rear windows of nearby houses. Two lionesses a few fences past were stargazing, one of them noticed the wolves and waved at them. He waved back out of courtesy, and looked up to see tonight's beauty.

The moon was there thankfully. Not too full nor half either, but it was enough for Dexter to call upon. Miles still played with his toy, but at the first glance upward, his eyes only focused on the moon. One of his young arms tried to reach out for it, hoping to grasp it. He felt his body raised up to his father's neck, closer towards the moon as he cooed at it in fascination.

"You'll get there, son," Dexter said. He hoped that the first night Miles would howl at would be a full moon. And he turned back to the kitchen, wondering where Chase was. The panther just stepped out with soaked paws, unpacking the camera to continue recording them.

"We're good," he whispered, gesturing a glistened thumbs up.

Dexter turned back to the moon, adjusting Miles to be heaved around his abdomen. His child's toy now rested on his stomach, both arms trying to reach for the crescented heavenly body. This moment was important to him, tail swayed in a calm manner. The last year flashed before his eyes, starting out with something so painful yet rejuvenating. The hardship that followed but the calm that his son's presence had given him. And the realization that in a decade's time, he would no longer howl alone. That was the realization that lifted his head as he let out a deep howl.

"Awoooooooooooo!" Dexter yelled, with his son's giggles complimenting it. Not perturbed by such startling noise, rather soothed him. The lionesses from earlier watched in fascination, turning away as another howl echoed from a town beyond. The forests beyond their turf began to sing their tune too, though not as intense when Lexy had passed. Not yet.

"Aw-aw-awooooo!" Dexter slowly relaxed his lungs as the howl subsided. After that followed the silence, save for his thumping heart. He brimmed with confidence, glancing down at his son who rested peacefully in his arms, one paw holding his father's, and another holding the toy closer to him. And the winds howled again, light and almost feminine as the breeze surrounded both father and son. More comforting than chilling, he didn't need to adjust his coat.

Dexter thanked her, "I love you too, Lexy."

****