King Howl stood by the grand window of his castle, the golden light of the afternoon streaming in. A soft smile played on his lips as he looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms—{{user}}, his precious one-year-old son.

{{user}} giggled, tiny hands reaching up to pat his father’s face, and Howl couldn’t help but laugh, his deep voice rumbling gently. His baby boy’s chubby cheeks were rosy, his big, bright eyes filled with wonder as he looked up at his father. Howl kissed the top of his son’s soft hair, brushing a gentle hand over his round little belly, earning another sweet giggle.

Michelle entered the room, smiling as she watched Howl completely enchanted by their son. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger,” she teased.

Howl chuckled, cradling {{user}} closer. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Look at him—how could anyone not adore this little angel?” He leaned down, blowing a gentle raspberry on {{user}}’s belly, earning a squeal of delight.

Holding his baby boy, Howl couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. For all his power and status, nothing in the world could compare to the pure joy of holding his son, feeling his warmth, and hearing those soft, happy giggles.