Sawtooth Spire I'm giving you gold here, people.

After Sitamat had shown his stomach wasn't quite a bottomless pit after all (though it was close to it), he had promptly been ushered from his siblings and held against the ground, belly up. He fussed and cried as something warm and wet washed over his hind, and began wriggling as he struggled to free himself. He wasn't even aware of the mess and foul odour he had blessed the den with, and only wanted to return to the cocoon of warmth he had previously been comfortable in.

As if heeding his wishes, the repetitive motions stopped, leaving him exposed to the cool air. Immediately, the newborn wanted it back, flailing his stubby limbs and squeaking unhappily. In response, he was swept across the ground, back into the warm huddle of his brothers.

They, too, bustled and squirmed as the big thing left them momentarily. Sitamat joined in with the cries, calling back their mother and the precious source of milk and heat. Blindly, he crawled forward, right into Atuaserk's side. He bumped into him and released another cry, frustrated by the sudden commotion and absence of their mother.