Redhawk Caldera Yankee Bayonet

Nip-gumming, or whatever you would call it when one possessed a single tooth with which to harass his family, had the desired effect. The foot tried to pull back, and his brother struggled to free it, until the little bandit released his hold. Now, with no barrier in front of his pugged snout, he whisked himself away from the offending situation. Much like a turtle that everyone suspected could barely move, his speed was perhaps surprising as he scuttled off, separating from the brother pile until his nose bumped into his mother's hind foot.

This foot was ok. Free on all sides, he was finally content and lay still with a soft sigh. Here he would likely stay until he found himself too cold, and then he would weasel back to the mass of pups or press up against his mother's belly. Or maybe her crotch. It was warm there too.