Sawtooth Spire wrong side of the tracks

Malrok continued to wail, the volume of his cries rising with each passing breath. He was hungry, and he would not settle until he had his meal. The second-born was needy, though he could not know as much. He knew only hunger right now, and he ached for the milk that would fill his belly and put him back to sleep. Malrok continued to cry, scooting himself as far along toward the mouth of the den as his mother would allow.