Sawtooth Spire this whole rhapsody

When his father spoke, Ping watched his mouth, as he had been doing whenever anyone spoke to him. "Puuuuu," he drawled as his head turned back to the pile, and his attention was stolen. If he was going to pronounce the name of the grand thing before him, it would have to wait. His father whuffed, gave him the nod, and the fox sprinted ahead. "Eeeeeeee!" he projected with glee, adding the bounce of a hare to his liquid gait.

He ran to the nearest bone, a long, stained thing, and pounced it, his rump and tail wiggling in the air. He moved his eyes up and glanced another bone, which he traded the first for with another pounce. He repeated this act on several more bones, until he arrived at the upside down skull of a coyote. He swatted it with a paw, flipping it up right, and exposing clearly to the boy its clenched teeth.

He paused with a sound that was like a hiccup and gasp blended together. Dried flesh and fur still clung around its muzzle, giving the appearance of a snarl. The fur rose along the silent fox's back as he stared fixedly at it.