Redtail Rise The smaller the mind, the greater the conceit

The fifth child was working her baby molars on a tree root at the front of the puppy den. She had already given it a stern talking-to, and now she chewed on it with the vicious might of a flea. This root deserved to be destroyed; it had dared to touch her, distract her from the mission. She couldn't even remember what that mission was anymore... see! This blasted thing had to go.

She gnawed and gnawed and gnawed.