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

She admired his spirit. Her tail beat against the earth as he rose again, coming at her with fangs. She withdrew her muzzle, knowing the sharp points of those fangs did not feel good and were altogether unpleasant to experience. It would not do as much damage as a legitimate attack against a full-grown wolf would, but it would still break skin and bleed if it hit. As her head lifted, Tonravik showed him a row of teeth. "Naga," she reprimanded in a low growl. Even if he did not understand, she would teach. But she again went for him, her muzzle sweeping around him and maneuvering to bump gently into the side of his frame.