I lost a friend.

The kid had quite a grip, Dante noted approvingly, and he would likely turn out quite the hunter.  Like his father, he thought appreciatively.  A chuckle escaped as he let out a growl of victory when he regained his stick, then took off as quick as his little puppy legs would allow.

"Oh no you don't!" He exclaimed, friendly challenge in both his expression and his tone. He took a few steps, a slower attempt to catch up, then attempted to land a forepaw on the escaping stick. He did not step down, not wanting to injure the pup by stopping him short, but instead tried to slow his roll even more. Then he crouched, tail waving in a daring manner. Perhaps the pup would want a little spar practice?