Ankyra Sound Find table space to say your social graces

The soft lump of puppy pudge beneath Wylla's slender bottom did little more than stir at her obnoxious motions, but when her paw bopped its wet nose without her consciousness, it shuddered with the force of a sneeze. Startled, the single female of the litter slid off Ingram's back, but not before Ingram's tongue could find the sensitive pad of her foot. She snatched it away with an indignant cry, followed by a sudden bout of baby spit-up that projected from her lips without warning, directly onto Ingram's snout.

She smacked her tiny lips thoughtfully, making ponderous noises all the while, then grunted and flailed about in the blind and useless manner of a newborn of any species. Her tail shuffled back and forth with frantic wriggles and her nose wrinkled as the pungent aroma of her own vomit broke through her noseblindness just enough to tickle her conscience.