Moonspear dancing in the moonlight

He met his mark, and nabbed her foreleg with a wily little growl when he did--only to be cut short by her moving it away from him. But something so simple so early on in this wouldn't deter him; his determination in such situations had already begun to be conditioned by roughhousing with his dam, and although she usually put him down easily, he had learned to keep going and keep coming with all of his worth until he just couldn't anymore.

But when she batted her paw at his side, he tried to nip at her legs and dodge all at once for a mess of contrasting maneuvers that he did not quite have the grace to execute. She made her contact anyway, gentle and feather-light as it was, and he did not! Then she was on his other side, and he tried to skitter out of reach of this one with some awkward sidestepping. He dodged this time, but fumbled up his gangly legs to send himself spilling to the ground. 

The boy, quick as ever, tried to play it off with a roll and a recollection that sprang him back up--then off, away, hopefully out of immediate reach. He sounded a yip then started to dart off, wanting her to chase him.