Bearclaw Valley Hello, my name is Jimmy Pop and I'm a dumb white guy

Time moved quickly—starting with a thump.

Alexander’s head shot up, eyes staring past the child and into the den, gaze laced with concern. What had happened? Was another child trying to come out—had they hurt themselves?

Followed by a snarl.

The male’s body jolted upwards, bringing him right to his feet. He locked eyes with Laurel, who warned him away, but he did not move even an inch. Drawing his body up to his full height, he stared at her as his lips twitched, a snarl of his own managing to slip through; it was silent, a mere warning.

Finished with a growl.

It was a small sound, but not so terribly so that it was easily missed. In a matter of seconds, he was looking down towards his son again, head cocked to the side and ears perked up with curiosity. It was humorous, really, but also rather endearing. His tail wagged once—twice!—before he remembered they were not alone. Again, he returned his attention to the mother and corrected his posture, head straightened out whilst the interest once there in his expression was forced to disappear (without success). “Calm down, Laurel,” he voiced; he continued to stand where he was, moving neither forward nor back. “Why are you doing that? I’m not going to hurt him—I just wanted to see them.” Did he not have the right to meet his own children? Especially now, as they were growing older?