Bearclaw Valley toothpoint

Arlen was a machine of playful growls. Nibbling at their brother's neck, tugging at delicate ears, and pulling at his fluffy cheeks.

The wrestling match was invigorating. A warrior's heart deep within their chest was pleased. It urged them to continue. From the corner of Arlen's gaze, their father's patchwork pelt has moved. Quick and deft, he stole the vole.

Arlen's vole. They caught it first! No, the fact that Ancelin found the thing and brought for them all did not count in the child's mind.

Arlen squawked angrily from the den floor. Disentangling themself from Aurelian, they hurriedly scrambled to Ahniska's side.

There, high in the air, Ancelin held the vole. Swaying the small rodent, it was the worst kind of game: a tease!

With a stamp of their paws, Arlen barked demandingly for their father to drop it. When denied, they moved to the man's front. Placing their paws on his leg to try and climb him for the vole.