heffalump

Whit's mouth locked on to everything that came too close. Bazi dreaded to think what would happen if he was let loose beyond the den, where a thousand sharp and poisonous things awaited his unsuspecting gums. For a moment, she pondered stationing an additional guard outside at all times, but eventually dismissed the idea as a ludicrous waste of resource. Whittier would have to fend for himself one day, and as long as he didn't die, perhaps a spot of diarrhoea would teach him a lesson.

At least for the moment, she had him in her grasp. Whitter fussed and reached, gnashing his toothless chops at anything that came close. It didn't hurt, and his mother allowed it to happen whilst she cleaned the spot under his forelegs, his belly, and his rear - currently the second most dangerous little butt in the den after Swift's.