Sleeping Dragon I'm your puppet

Between sucking on and gumming at the twig, he couldn't tell which he enjoyed more. Both were satisfying in their own special ways, though he remained disappointed by his inability to fix that which had been broken. Perhaps, someday, he'd manage to do so. It'd be put at the top of his to-do list as soon as he knew what a to-do list was. For the time being, his time was occupied, though there came a small distraction when he'd felt a tongue against his face. His suckling had then stopped, mouth releasing the stick as his noise was raised up in the direction that the feeling had come from. He'd waited a moment or two before going back to what he'd previously been doing, deciding that the stick was more important that finding out who had caused him such grief a short while ago.