Arrow Lake you deserve grandchildren with 82 legs

As to be expected, this little inkblot was not much to look at. Stag assessed him with a knowing eye, smug in his measurement -- this child was not like him, in any way shape or form. He felt pride well in his chest, for he was still (in his eyes) the undisputable best.

He snapped at Trench's face as the boy sniffed at his stick. It had been a trick, a ploy -- while his teeth didn't mean to connect, the intention was clear: mine, not yours. His tail rallied proudly behind him, waving -- but his eyes were studiously cold.

"First." Stag answered, his chest puffed - first, and obviously the best.