Sun Mote Copse i’m gonna pop some tags, only got $20 in my pocket

Mur! came Skipjack’s slightly indignant reply when Fennec produced words rather than food.

After another hopeful poke, he gave up and plopped onto his bum with a sigh. He considered crying—it seemed to have a powerful effect on the adults in his life, particularly when he wanted something—but without food, he had no energy for it.

Instead, he curled up in a ball against his auntie’s chest. Skip let out another loud sigh as he settled, his head draped over one of her forelegs. She hadn’t fed him but she made a pretty good pillow. And she’d twirled him! That definitely swayed his opinion in her favor.

He yawned, stretched a little, grunted, and then closed his eyes—not that it made much difference.