Bearclaw Valley her perfume crucified me with memories

she was cunning. merrick took the literal bait, practicing another growl as he trapped the weasel's dangling foreleg in his puppy-sharp jaws and lashed his head from side to side. for a length of time the boy did this with the focus of a kickboxer training for a tournament. and when his tongue finally lolled, his panting quick and prideful, merrick ended the match.
a stream of urine aimed along the weasel, for he had clearly won the match, as one-sided as it might have been. however, merrick did not take a moment to consider that the toy was still held in his mother's jaws; that was secondary to his own goal.