Seaside Moors Broken Lungs

It took her a few moments to get a good grip on the stick, before she was really able to start chewing at it, and noticed with glee that the driftwood crackled between her teeth as they sank in. It was thick enough that she couldn't bite the stick into two pieces, but she left behind small but deep punctures, which she'd pause to inspect every now and again, pleased with the effect her teeth were having. 

She felt the stick move and she wrapped her forepaws around it more tightly, sliding her gaze down the length of the stick to see that the other end had disappeared beyond her mother's muzzle. She simply held on for a moment, maw agape and grappling the stick, before she bared her teeth in a silent grimace, and with her tail wriggling, she promptly declared her ownership of the stick by straddling it, turning her wriggling bum toward her mother as though to say No, this is mine before she continued chewing on it.