Larksong Grotto Seven Ate Nine

Seff was growing quickly. His babbles had started to become distinguished, and sometimes he almost seemed to say a word-but none, so far. His ears stood directly erect, his eyes, unchanging, still the bright blue they had been since birth. He could walk steadily, though occasioanally still stumbled at times, but he could recognize severel different words and their meanings. Also, perhaps he acted a bit like a king. Being the only pup in the pack, he was the sole reciptent of the older wolves affections, and they were everywhere. It took only a shrill cry to summon some of them, who would play with the little pup and talk to him. Today, Seff played by the entrance to the den, emitting happy shrieks every so often. A large, gnarled stick was the victim of his fierce puppy attacks, he chomped and bit at the thing without remorse.