Bearclaw Valley don't let it shake your steady thread cutting hand

Now in the ripe age of almost two months (!!!) Nunataq worked hard to expand her horizons daily. The pull to the outside world got stronger every day and, when she was not playing and fighting with the rest of the crew, or biting on Marten's ears (because - boy - they were such wonderful chew-toys for her irritated gums), she was out and about the little clearing around the dens. And - though her exploration missions were not a nuisance now - soon she would be prone to disappear the moment you looked away from her.

But not at this age and not today.

She woke up just as Indra (to her names were irrelevant, but if asked for a description of her new caretaker, it would go along the lines of - big, fluffy, red food-sack-and-warm) left the den, and without much regard to Marten's morning nap, she climbed and tumbled over him and scrambled towards the den entrance. There she stood, regarding the world proudly for a while, then caught sight of the russet she-wolf and went straight to attack, whichever body part was available to the little crocodile. Recently Nuna had received a nice set of razor-sharp shark teeth and had a very strong inclination to bite and hold onto stuff. Regretably - this stuff was someone's limbs or tail and very rarely an inanimate object.