Larksong Grotto prüfung

The familiar tang of the cragsman roused Astraeus, skipping and toppling over year upon year old stems. The roughening of his pads was endemic along with his prosperity, tickled to show off his growing (yet, still squishy) muscles.

"what're you doing!" he squealed. Rolling at the speed of light his grips on the surface eluded him and crashed into his elder's hind, jumping up unfazed and scatterring between his legs once again. "what's that smell? what are you looking at? what are we doing? do you have food?"