Sawtooth Spire drittgeborener

mahler chuckled despite himself, grunting as the boy's sharp milk teeth nipped over his dewclaw and ankle.  a low rumble began in his chest, and he ducked his muzzle to nudge astraeus back and forth gently, a controlled roughhousing meant to inspire laughter or a renewed effort. "ein kleiner bär," he chuffed, amused.