Lost Creek Hollow but take your time, think a lot

Hwwaaaarrrr-urf! Half-whine, half-growl was the noise that escaped from little Jet as her eyes riveted themselves to first one racing pup and then another. Ah! WAI-AIT! she yipped in the direction of the brown-masked white one who seemed to have taken the lead, all too fearful of being left out of all the fun. Gladly doing her best to leave her brothers and mother all in the dust behind her she galumphed eagerly forth to join in the rough-and-tumble, only to be bowled swiftly over by one or another of the slightly-older pups (who thus had a bit of an unfair advantage over the youngest Lost Creekers here, if you asked Jet!). She didn't see who it had been as she got up and clumsily attempted to shake herself off before galloping right back toward the fray.

It was hard to focus on who or what was rushing around to where, especially with her muscles still learning to properly obey her. Her stubby legs were far too clumsy and slow for her liking, and as she reared menacingly up her first inept swipe of a paw whistled uselessly through nothing but air. Jet's desperate eyes thought they caught a flash of brown fur before her, and without thinking she lunged with a quite-unimpressive gutteral war cry for which she hadn't really the lung capacity, and snapped her teeth at the object before it could escape. Perhaps it had been Sionnach's ear, perhaps not; but she felt her teeth close on something, and with a victorious growl she clenched it between her teeth and lurched back to tug teasingly upon it before rolling her eyes exaggeratedly downward to see who—or what— it was that she had finally caught, anyway.