The Heartwood the wolf and the lion

Rickon's first adult attempt at flirting was going unexpectedly well! He was feeling quite full of himself in that moment, bolstered especially by her assurance that he was not yet a dorkazoid. "See, Bonesy! She don't think I'm lame," he drawled, lifting one of his large forepaws and slapping it down on the skeleton-lion's head. The impact, while not particularly forceful, caved in the crown of the blackened skull and enveloped his foot briefly. "Shit!" he barked, snatching back his arm as a swarm of winged beetles, centipedes, and worms began erupting from the charred remains. He wasn't terrified, but the surprise of the situation put every hair of his body on end and on reflex he had moved to put his body between October and the insects flying out— instinctively shielding her.