Dragoncrest Cliffs i climbed to dharamsala too.

Paging @Wildfire :)

The forest hummed with the faintest of high-pitched growls that afternoon as Artaax went to war this his latest treasure. Said treasure was nothing special, really. It was a stick that stretched the length of his body and twisted at the end like a sickle with small twigs adorned with leaves stretching out from it here and there. Actually, it wasn't unlike quite a few other sticks he'd come across in his life. Still, there was something different to him about this stick, even if he as the only one to notice it.

Artaax bowed his head back, licking at his teeth to free scraps of bark from between them. He narrowed his eyes as he focused again on the curled end, his lips peeling back in a silent snarl before he shot his head forward to snap hold of the stick again. He grabbed it at a sharp angle and had to twist his head to compensate. He blinked rapidly and shook his head as a leaf smacked repeatedly into his eye. Not about to let go, Artaax shook the branch in an effort to free himself of it. But, seeing as he wasn't letting go, the leaf continued to bounce across his eyes, and he continued to be frustrated with that and too stubborn to actually free himself of it.

YAY!

Wildfire was just returning from a successful hunt with a fresh rabbit dangling from her jaws when she heard a noise in the brush ahead of her, between herself and the cave. She quickly stashed the rabbit near the roots of a tree and then hunched close to the ground, eager to make another kill. Slowly, she crept forward through the underbrush, licking her lips even as she tilted her muzzle into the air, searching for a scent. She could only smell the pack wolves, notably one of her own offspring...

The mother's eyes twinkled when she suddenly realized what—or, rather, who—she was stalking. She continued her furtive approach, grinning when she saw Artaax doing battle with a stick. For a few moments, she watched him like she would observe any prey. Unlike her behavior on an actual hunt, however, she made a point to announce herself with a loud woof before springing out of her cover and playfully pouncing in her son's direction.

Artaax was typically a rather observant boy. His senses seemed always to be on high alert, driven by his eagerness to learn and discover all that he could of the world. But then came times like these when a challenge arose and he became so single-minded in his pursuit of accomplishment that he completely tuned out everything else in the world, including the swift, calculated approach of his mother.

The pup was completely unaware of Wildfire's presence until the moment she barked aloud. The stick still firmly grasped in his teeth, he snapped his head towards her with one eye shut and the other wide open to see her launch herself at him. With a squeal, he kicked his legs to get them back under himself, only to get them tangled in the stick he still refused to let go of and fall back down as she closesd in on him.

She didn't know whether to be more amused or concerned when Artaax dropped like a sack of potatoes, the stick still clenched firmly in his mouth. She sidestepped away from him with a smile, then bent down to nose his belly. He appeared none the worse for wear, just startled by her sudden approach.

Without saying anything, Wildfire grabbed the other end of the stick in an attempt to help haul her son back to his feet. If and when that happened, she didn't intend to let go. This was a prime opportunity to play some tug-o'-war and it would be good exercise and practice for him.

Artaax's shoulder throbbed from where he'd landed on the ground, but he ignored it completely. A giggle escaped past clenched teeth at his mother's prodding to his stomach. His eyes darted to keep up with her as she hopped away from him again and he rolled to his side, his neck still twisted awkwardly. Her tug upon the stick did help to turn him the right way as he got onto all fours.

The boy's muscles tensed quickly as he felt another tug from the other end of the stick. His giggles turned to gurgling growls as his mother tried to claim the stick for her own. It didn't occur to him in that moment how easily she could probably tear it from his teeth - he was determined not to let her have it. A competitive instinct rose up in him as he planted his front paws in the ground and tugged viciously (maybe more like.. "viciously") backwards. Even so, his tail wagged over his reared haunches at a pace that quickened each time Wildfire pulled back.

He pulled with strength that surprised her, very nearly ripping the stick out from between her teeth. But Wildfire clenched her jaw and held on tight. She didn't try to pull backward, instead holding still to gauge Artaax's abilities. She grinned when she saw how much effort he was putting into it. One day, he would be as big and powerful as his nomi, Wildfire wagered.

Gradually, she began to relax her jaw to loosen her grip. She didn't want to simply let go, else Artaax would go flying backward and possibly hurt himself. Besides, this way, he would get the satisfaction of successfully prying the stick from his mother and the reward of his hard work paying off.

Artaax was getting tired. He'd spent quite a lot of time doing battle with the stick itself before having to defend it from his mom, and that hadn't been nearly as taxing as this fight. But still, the pup was not about to let go. Each, gradual step he made towards victory gave him another burst of energy that drove him to dig his teeth in even harder. In the end, either he would finally wrench the stick from Wildfire, or he'd break all of his teeth.

Fortunately for Artaax's dentition, Wildfire finally relented, letting the stick slip from between her teeth. Artaax still stumbled a bit (or so I assume) but he didn't break his ass as he might've otherwise. Wildfire's black tail rose into a proud wag as she looked down at him, then she remembered that she should probably be acting as if he'd won the stick by pure merit of strength.

"Dang, I'm no match for you! You're getting so strong, Arty. Have you been power lifting when I'm not looking?" she teased fondly. "You won that stick, fair and square," she added, pointing her nose at it. "What're you going to do with your prize?"

Luckily, Artaax did not break all of his teeth. He finally tore the stick from his mother's jaws due to the strength of his might (and totally not because Wildfire had let him have it). He stumbled a bit, even falling back onto his rump with a hard smack to his tailbone. He bounced quickly back up onto all fours, though, prepared to deny his fall if anyone dared accuse him of it.

He grinned at his mom, the stick still clenched in his teeth. His tail flapped excitedly at his rump as he listened to her compliments, lifting his chin with pride. Her words made him laugh, and finally he let the stick fall from his mouth harmlessly onto his toes. "Can we keep it in the den?" Artaax asked eagerly, his eyes wide and eager, "I wanna show Blitz and Bobbin." He grinned at the thought of getting to show it off and regale his siblings with the tale of how he'd defeated their mother in single combat.

Arty, Blitz and Bobbin, Wildfire found herself musing. When did my children get such ridiculous names? Her eyes crinkled at the corner as she peered down at her elder son, utmost fondness written into every line of her face. She loved their silly nicknames, even if she couldn't even remember when and how they'd come about.

"Of course," she answered him with a sway of her black tail. "Would you like to head back there now? I can carry the stick for you if you want to carry—" Her voice cut off as she suddenly darted away, only to return an instant later with the dead hare dangling from her jaws. She dropped it between them. "This." Her head canted as she peered at him expectantly.

It didn't even occur to Artaax that he had given his siblings nicknames. He was truly just trying to say their names, but in spite of how far his speech had come, he was still not very proficient and so he took shortcuts and smushed names together. He paid little attention.

What he did pay attention to was Wildfire's praise. He grinned excitedly as she agreed to let him keep his prize in the den, and nodded to confirm that he wanted to take it back there now. His frame tensed when she offered to carry his stick for him, and he glanced protectively down at it. When she turned back with the hare, his eyes widened and hunger grabbed at him. He wanted the rabbit, badly. But as she set it down beside his stick and offered a choice, he hesitated for a long while as he considered his options.

Finally, Artaax looked back up at Wildfire. "I'll take my stick," he confirmed with a resolute nod of his head, "That one's my treasure. I didn't win that one." He gestured towards the hare, confident in his decision. He treated it as though it was the most monumental of moments in his life, whether to carry the stick or the hare. His pride in himself slid to the passenger seat soon enough thought as he glanced sheepishly at her and asked with a tiny smile and a wagging tail, "Can I have some of the rabbit for dinner still though?"

The child seemed to take her query quite seriously. Wildfire fought back an amused smile, schooling her expression into one of patient, polite anticipation as Artaax deliberated. When he finally announced his decision, she grinned and nodded her head.

"Of course," she replied, sweeping the rabbit off the ground and then motioning for her son to follow her back to Hougeda, where she would divvy up the meat among her cubs, supposing they weren't too busy playing with (and possibly arguing over) Artaax's stick.