Redhawk Caldera Beefin' over turf

An easy smile curved across Panther's mouth, and his tail beat on the ground as he looked from father to son with an equally brimming expression. "Oh y'know, just something for the tykes to grow their teeth on," he introduced the shin bone, pushing it as far forward as his politely seated position would allow. "Figured you'd be tired of lending your own limbs to the task," the dark mimic related, knowing the woes of growing pups not because he'd had his own, but because of own his parents constant breeding and the bucket of younger siblings they seemed to churn out. "And who's this lit'le guy?" Panther lilted in his own singy tone, scooting back so that he could lie on his belly without getting any closer, but resume a height more level to his nephew. "D'you speak yet, huh? Can you say Paaanther, darling? Can you?"