Cedar Sweep I kinda wanna throw my phone across the room

Artok sucked in a breath as the youth engaged him. He followed his movements with careful eyes, but not to warn away. No. To engage, to play. He hadn't played in years.

In most circumstances Artok would have met the youth with teeth and claws, but he saw it for what it was, a love bite, a playful moment. So he bounded forward, as easily as he could with his bum leg, and playfully batted at the youth, tugging at his ears and ruff.

Then with a wave of his tail he leapt backwards, as if saying catch me if you can.