Swiftcurrent Creek clothmaker

Nope. For de last time- you be carnivores, not cannibals! Suzu complained, before she grabbed her child by the ruff and pulled their grabby shark-toothed mouth off her teat. It would’ve been easier to do if her children hadn’t grown so damn much- now, even if she held one by the scruff, they could still reach her belly be simply stretching themselves into giraffe mode and latching on. 

And when they latched on now, they really latched on. 

Out! She barked, All of you, sea-gremlins! She said, but before she could badger them out of the den, someone came in- with a small, brown writhing thing in his jaws. For a moment, she thought it was a pup, and a very upset one at that.

Dat be not one of mine, ask Arle- It was a weasel, not a child. And that was Lestan, returned with live bait as promised. Her features brightened. Alright! Everybody out! OUT OUT OUT! She barked excitedly, tail thumping against the den walls, and children’s bottoms to get them to crowd out into the daylight. Their hunting lessons were about to begin!