Dragoncrest Cliffs Fish are dumb dumb dumb - they chase anything that glitters

After morning patrol and a short hunt, he'd b-lined it back to the densite as soon as he had been able. Dio now napped with his back to the entrance, draped just close enough to Portia and the puppies to keep himself invested should he need to be. It was right there that he'd dozed off, fondly watching them do their practically-nothing before his eyes had grown just too heavy. He'd not been bothered to move by anyone else in here, so there he had been, an effective barrier and roadblock—nothing was getting in nor out without him knowing about it.

But, puppy squeaks disrupted the quiet rhythm of his snooze and he lifted up his head before true awareness caught up to him. The cogs were turning, albeit drowsily, and he peered deeper into the den's depths before creeping closer himself. His ears flicked and switched at the sound of Portia's soft coo, and he was gradually catching up—a notion that gained momentum when he saw new little eyes among their lot when he finally got his sights set on the pups, both of them. He perked, although still sleepily, and curiously looked back.