Bearclaw Valley take a shot

It was a good thing they were still so small, as Astyanax did not weigh much against Glaucos' back and the collision of his face against the puddle of mud wasn't too bad; it surprised him more than anything, and the gritty texture of the soil wasn't pleasant, but as soon as Astyanax was rolling along, Glaucos could stand up again. He wobbled a little bit, sputtered as he worked the dirt across his tongue and swallowed it, and then caught his brother's eye.

The rain was as much a deterrent to Glaucos as anything else: he saw the look on his brother's face and took his posture as a cue to play, so he launched himself haphazardly out of the den mouth and in to the rain. As soon as the rain touched his face Glaucos stopped moving. It was like he had been petrified, transformed from the animate little pebble that he was, to a stone-faced sculpt.

The cold was thrilling. The wet feeling was so much like bath time from their mother bear - except it wasn't smelly or too warm, and there wasn't the rancid scent of meat to flavor his coat. It was cleansing, if anything. Glaucos stood there utterly distracted for about thirty seconds before he turned his nose towards his brother, sniffling through some drops hanging off his snout, and let out a gasping giggle.

He forgot all about the game Astyanax was hoping to play. Instead he began to stomp, as his brother had been in the mud puddle, except he was aimed at the soggy earth where the water sat rippling against the grass; the greenery was already flooded by a few inches, enough so that his little gray paws were submerged if he did not move. He kicked and pawed and splashed, lunging through the water at Astyanax with forelimbs reaching out, causing a small wave to course forth.