Duskfire Glacier nature, nurture, heaven, and home

Earth flew past his hocks as he ripped through the soil. So far none of his senses picked up on the approaching stranger. Scent or no, Tartok knew how to avoid detection if the individual willed it so Sitiyok remained unawares as he kicked a few rocks up and over the lip of the den. His pads scraped at the dense terra firma until he pulled back violently, as if bitten. He backed out of the hole and lifted his left paw, spotting the wellspring of blood that dribbled from his digit. The offending rock was a sharp bit of shale embedded at just the right angle, still sporting a few crimson streaks of blood stolen from the wolf. 

Sitiyok stretched his legs out and curled his hindquarters beneath him. He placed his tongue against the wound and began to lap at it methodically to stop the bleeding, and clean the cut. He rumbled a short note of discomfort.