Redhawk Caldera the ballad of mr. steak

The den was spacious, but not so much so that a furry shrimp would never discover its expanse had an end. Not too much further, and the first born bumped into the dirt that made up one of the den's walls. Hmm. This was different. His nose pushed up against the dirt, and he snuffled at it, before his snout bumped a stray root from some plant or the other. It tickled as it brushed across his lips, which by either some reflex or the infant inclination to put things in their mouth, caused the bandit to start to lick and gum at it.

This was fine for about two seconds, then he was bored, and also, he was starting to feel cold. So now, as he pulled himself down the den wall, he started to squeak and mewl out of frustration. It was taking too long to get back to where he was trying to get back to.