Sawtooth Spire no color

He knew not what caused it, but a snarl escaped Tonravik. "And you're worried about me with the kids?" he questioned. Between the two of them, she displayed far more violence towards the children in that act alone than he had in totality since the moment they were born. He raised a skeptical brow towards her and kept poking with that stick. Aww. She was moving away now and taking the kid with her. Game over.

A frustrated sigh escaped him. He'd been trying to get Tonravik to give into the idea of play since the get go and it appeared as though he'd made zero progress in that endeavor. Or maybe not? She tugged back at the end of the stick and he was relentless in keeping it within his grasp. This stick, was his only way of reaching into the den to entertain his children. He was keeping it. Finding another would be a pain.

She let go. His body lurched backwards with the momentum as he nearly rolled over, branch in tow. Catching himself, he instead pulled the limb back out of the den, spat out a few nasty pine needles, and stared back into the shadows. "I said we want to play... Not just me." Now it was his turn to pout. His boys were bored and Tonravik didn't know how to play.