Penumbra was a pup that like to be on his own, away from family, away from supervision, away from any interference. His personal bubble seemed a mile wide, and his emotions were tiny needles insofar as finding them in that space, but he wasn't mischievous--incredibly the opposite in fact, as serious as his mother and father combined--so maybe that was why there wasn't much trouble when he disappeared at random. It wasn't that Penumbra didn't care for his family, but he had a low tolerance for socializing and often felt too stiff and awkward around playmates. Besides, young though he was, he needed to start working on his skills to be a boon to the pack that was feeding and housing him. All the more so because he was a son of the alpha, and he felt the weight of it on his little shoulders.
His favorite activity was to stalk and hunt. That afternoon he took to the shadows as they stretched out and followed after a chipmunk looking for food. There were more animals out now that winter was approaching, so at the very least he never wanted for targets. He barely managed to pin it down under his paws when he lunged for it, but just when Penumbra thought he could squash the thing or bite down, it bit him. Reflexively he stepped back with a yelp, and the chipmunk scurried up a nearby tree, turning to hurl rodent curses at him in a loud, squeaky voice.
Penumbra gave it a dry look before investigating his bleeding paw. How embarrassing...