Cricket Creek Bog raises a number to a power of a specified number.

She was more amused than she was perplexed by his actions- thrashing about with a fairly sizeable stick in his mouth- almost big enough to be a log by the looks of it, which must've worn on him with the resistance of the water's flow as well. It certainly wasn't some new fishing technique, so she assumed that Figment was simply taking some time on his own, given he wouldn't have many others his age in the pack at the moment- to play. And when he was noticed, he stopped, and looked rather sheepish.

She gestured with one long, slender limb toward the stick he'd been mauling. "Did you at least give it a quick death?" She called out.