Sawtooth Spire tin cans and string

No problem! Thanks for joining!

He was met with no reply for a moment. Was Sitamat not in there? Iqniq pulled his nose out of the den and glanced around the immediate area. Had he wandered off? He was about to go look for the boy when he heard the lone word come out of the den. "Attack," as he'd mistaken it for, which caused the father to tense as he braced himself to be tackled by the children. No wait. That was his name in Inuit. Or close enough to it. Atatak... as butchered by pup speak. He was out of harms way from those still sharp puppy teeth. Phew.

Realizing the actual intended word, Iqniq visibly relaxed. Sitamat wandered out of the den and into the light of day where they bumped noses. Dad gave him a quick lick as he sat down and placed a large paw on his son's head. "Rise and shine, kid. What will it be today? Exploring? Pine cone chasing? Hunting vole?" He rambled off a list of options. Any would do, but he wanted Sitamat to make a decision for himself. "What would you like to do?"