Sawtooth Spire stealing bathrobes from the sheraton hotel

Dad snatch!

The boys were starting to make sounds. He could hear it, from where he lay, basking in the afternoon glow as they all exercised their vocal chords. It was exciting. They were quickly growing into young versions of themselves. His eagerness to meet them all was paramount. Respectfully, he continued to linger outside of the den, but the time for Dad to start playing a role was coming and quickly. As Tonravik was instinctual, so too would his own version of that soon loose patience and take over. For now, he could entertain himself by remaining on the outside, looking in.

This time? There was more listening that looking. His ears swiveled, turning to hear the garbled experiments of sound as they escaped one of his son's mouths. He still did not know who was who, but  from their noises and voices he was slowly starting to distinguish one from another. This one seemed more hesitant with his voicebox, but Iqniq listened on contentedly as the child exercised his right to speak.

"Nnnnnggg..." he repeated, echoing in the sound in as close to a mimic has he could muster on his own, more mature chords. "Rrrnnn..." He poked his nose around the lip of the den and peered inward. "Buuuuurrrb," he tried, trying to emulate their sounds.