Nova Peak pot luck

A muffled cry squeezed past Swift's fuzz and into his mother's ears. "Hold still then!" Bazi half-roared at her son, renewing her grip on his tail and giving it an almighty tug. Rather than going limp and allowing himself to be extricated, Swift was doing the most unhelpful thing possible - it was becoming a trend - by tightening his muscles and wedging himself in the hole. By this point, the other pups had gathered around to watch the spectacle whilst the menfolk watched on from afar. Bazi was half tempted to let let her son find his own way out of the mess he was in. Half tempted.