Qeya River beatboxing puppy

Another voice. Young.

Phoebe, who only ever had experience with her much more rowdy siblings, fluffed up like a little cotton ball soaked in ink. She clamped so fiercely to the stick she was steadily chewing it to pieces.

Mine! She squalled in warning, still tugging rapidly to try and spirit the stick away before the other pup saw a chance to grab it and run, like Sparrow no doubt would.