Roland was born into a world of darkness and muffled sounds and strange new smells, the rather large kit mewling out rather pitifully as all kits do when they're born, his tiny body squirming, writhing helplessly, one scent in particular striking his nose and causing him to squirm towards it with another pitiful mew, a mew of hunger, the scent was milk and it wouldn't be long until he would associate it with hunger, and the scent to crawl towards to sate that uncomfortable feeling. For now, he reached his mothers stomach, squeezing past his siblings and began to suckle, drinking down the warm, nutricious substance that rushed into his mouth, his paws placed on her belly, kneading awkwardly as he began to drink his fill, eyes glued shut and ears folded against his head.