Nova Peak merrily, merrily, merilly, merilly.

Aunty @Kaskara :)

At two months old, life had been quite kind to the young Frostfur.  He was whole and healthy, well-loved, happy, and oh so wonderfully chubby.  Though his awareness of the world around him had grown immensely since he was just a little puppy lump latched upon his mother's teet, he had not yet reached the stage in his life where self-consciousness and social opinions made him feel guilty or somehow inferior due to his weight.  Thus, he reveled in it and was free to just go with whatever naive or childish whim his hefty self was moved by.

Such as that day - day three of being two months old, to be exact.  Dad had been kind enough to bring back presents for all of his brood - a rib bone for each of them about the length of their little bodies.  Whit had spent the better part of an hour gnawing upon his prize to strip it of every lingering scrap of meat, there was still a hint of flavor staining the ivory that he still wanted to have his way with.

So, without a word to his siblings lest they track him and try to steal his boon, Whittier slipped out and away from the den to stick his face into a little thicket of bushes just a few feet away where he went to work setting his bone upon the ground and then brushing futilely at the shrubbery to try and cover it.  One day he'd figure out how to dig.  For now, though, smashing the bushes down on top of it seemed like the best option.