Ankyra Sound Bow your head, they're pious here

The dark and gloom of Lusca's chosen hollow was oppressive as dusk fell upon the sound, but Wylla was not aware of it. Her circadian rhythm had yet to find its bearing within her heart of hearts and her physiology was not yet slave to the rise and fall of the sun. She was as awake at the fall of dusk as she was at midnight and at dawn, and her raucous cries and joyous yelps alike were a constant chorus for the poor resting mother whose muzzle she rudely assaulted with pokes of her pugged nose.

But whether because Lusca was asleep or because she was ignoring her, Wylla's prodding went unanswered. With no sense of time, direction or privacy, the babe didn't know that doing this for five minutes on end was generally inappropriate, nor did she realize that doing it for another ten minutes was like to make Lusca snap. In fact, she didn't know it was annoying, and was merely exploring her single sense, which was touch, in a way that was unfortunately grating. The tiny dilute black wolf's tail wriggled and slapped against Lusca's wrist with all the power of a mosquito as she prodded her mother's face again and squeaked as a whisker tickled across her sealed eyelids.

@Caiaphas