Sawtooth Spire Corynorhinus

Tonravik's ears shifted as Atuaserk landed a blow, and she moseyed forward as she watched her cub misplace a foot. Could a fall from mount skull be fatal for one of their size? She did not know, nor did she desire to risk it... but fortunately, her mate was quick to catch him before he could plop on the ground in a painful belly-flop by moving beneath him. The cubs, each of them, seemed taken by the man. Malrok presently kept close to her, perhaps sussing out the situation himself before diving into it himself. Sitamat was nervous, she gathered from his scent.

Her mates question was met with a thoughtful look. Had he been...? No. But he had been presented with nothing so new as this in his life, and also, his reason for not being timid might simply be because his love for food trumped his nervousness. "No," she responded at last, then she tilted her head as she looked to him. She wondered if that mattered, truly, when it was not him or who he was that caused their son to behave as he did, simply an innate part of his personality. Their shared, indescribable instinct that dictated them. Her, more than others. It was how she was raised. And if his instinct told him to be cautious, he would soon learn through experience that around this ruddy male, no caution was needed. The others were brave and bold and made a mad rush for the change, and Sitamat was simply adapting to it. Their memory of this, of she being the only face they knew, would be short lived and perhaps forgotten in the scheme of things. The cubs would never want for company... and surely, their fourth born would warm up to the man.