Swiftcurrent Creek trampled by turtles

Fox quirked a brow when the little—dare she say—fireball went off. If Fox had not suspected the younger wolf of being some kind of personality twin, she certainly felt it was true now. Just when Fox was about to interject, Bones had to get one last word in about how her terrible horrible mother had let her siblings die or disappear. Knowing nothing of motherhood herself, Fox had no comment on that piece of information. She wondered if her own children would end up like this one (and herself): hot-headed and lungs as big as buffalo.

“And I’m sure you’re the most perfect angel of a child, yes?” asked Fox. Her love of tormenting and teasing had not simply vanished because she was no longer a leader. And she could not help herself on such an easy and emotional target. Fox had a feeling that if she had a child like this, she would not want to be around it all that much either. Bones not being her child actually made Fox like the little sprog for what she was.