So why am I ten feet under and upside down

When his Dad lowered himself to the floor, Mason shifted slightly to allow room, then honed in to press his fur against Fitz’s. He reveled in the warmth his father provided, something that Mason loved to feel. A real heart beating close to his and the scent of family. These were things that Fitz could provide like no other, and they were perhaps more important than anything else.

The promise elicited a nod. Hunting sounded fun and he loved the idea of hunting beside his Dad. He had no idea yet just how hard it was, and how often it was fruitless. Soon enough his fanciful visions would be dashed, but for now they kept him entertained in the long hours when his Dad was gone from the den.

Dancing? Dad had to know what dancing was. Mason didn’t know who had applied the word to his movements or when. All he knew was that for as long as he had known he could dance. “Like this!” He exclaimed in a shrill voice, and he began jigging away from his father, paws flailing left and right, up and down, tail spinning, ears wiggling, body moving high and low. Pirouettes and leaps brought his breath tumbling from him in a frenzy. Pink tongue began to loll as he danced away from his father to the very edge of the cave (carefully avoiding Joo) before he began prancing back with similar movements.

No music required; Mason could dance with the best of them, acapella.