Little Fedor giggled, his tiny hands clutching the glowing red gemstone on his chest, utterly delighted by the cosmic playground he had just accidentally manifested.
But the attention span of a one-month-old infant was as fleeting as a passing breeze.
Suddenly, Fedor's tiny stomach gave a soft, demanding rumble. The profound joy of creating a magical woodland was instantly overridden by a much more primal, urgent biological need.
His bright, chiming giggles abruptly hitched. His tiny face scrunched up, his white fox ears flattening against his red locks, and he let out a sharp, piercing wail of sheer infant hunger.
The sound was like a massive pane of tempered glass violently shattering.
The absolute second the Kitsune heir lost his focus, the colossal twilight illusion violently collapsed. The glittering silver stars, the massive moon, and the ancient, fiery-leaved trees completely dissolved into a shower of fading, emerald-green sparks.
