Sawtooth Spire Corynorhinus

Not knowing how deep-rooted his fear was, Tonravik herself worried not. The mother had no doubt he would not be a stranger to them for very long now that he had been given inner access. He had been persistent out there; she doubted he would even leave, now. One cub went to conquer the red mountain and the other bear-crawled toward him. Tonravik did not encourage him, if only because that he did this was an invaluable skill to have in the wilds. Not every wolf was approachable. While she did want to nose him to her mate in knowing he was safe, she refrained. Tonravik did not want him to think that her doing that meant he should always be so forward. All the same she did not reprimand Atuaserk; it would be easy to unlearn the habit of rushing at another if taught properly, but their father would not be the object of that practice.

Tonravik rest for a minute, but kept her eyes on them. She was particularly interested in the game that he played with his ears. It truly was all fun and games until their overeagerness brought milk-teeth into the arena... and the ears were a particularly sensitive area. The cubs would in the next coming months learn restraint, but at (nearly) just a month that sort of control was foreign to them. "Kigutit," she spoke in warning, of "Their teeth."