Sawtooth Spire we are nothing but waddling colonies of tiny little monsters

Tonravik rest, but her eyes were upon them.

Only a couple of more days...

She could not wait. The urge to go now was there, but not so strong as her urge to still remain and protect and look after the babes was. Tonravik could see they were raring to escape... and she also knew her mate was willing to assist them. The mother tried not to blame him, but could not understand it on a personal level. She couldn't wait to get away from them... but, admittedly, they were becoming more entertaining as they could move and babble now. They didn't make much sense, but one day they would.

It was the fox who came and approached her now. She watched as he, perhaps now the size of her broad muzzle, slide beside it and pawed at her face. Tonravik, ever a bully, simply thrust her muzzle toward the frail body in hopes of sending him downward. It was a dog eat dog world out there, and Tonravik would not coddle them at any point. Fortunately, the cubs were used to this roughness from her at this point. She was gentle when need be, but now was not one of those times. Of course, the mother never needed to use any measure of her legitimate strength... that, perhaps, helped them, too.