Sawtooth Spire weebles wobble but they don't fall down

He continued along the wall of the den, nosing each little crevice as he went. This was one of the things in this world Malrok enjoyed. It kept him quiet, too. So long as his curiosity was sated, he did not cry, nor whine, whimper, or wail. An occupied mind was a quiet mind. Of course, the quiet would not last—not with Malrok at the wheel. He encountered something strange. Something he had not run across before. It moved when his nose touched it, but it was not soft like his mother and siblings. It also was not warm to the touch. He would have thought it a stone (for it was roughly the same size), but it had moved. Malrok squeaked in surprise, stretching out a paw instinctually. His first enemy.