Swiftcurrent Creek Slobberbone

Someone had brought a bone into the den. Despite his position at the bottom of the pile (metaphorically speaking; he was the Omega of this small puppy pack), it had somehow wound up in his possession this evening. Relonikiv lay on his back with his head propped against Paarthurnax and the bone perched on his fat little belly. His forepaws wrapped around the meaty knob at its end as he cut his milk teeth against the firm cartilage. It already showed signs of having been used and abused by the others, so perhaps that was why his brothers and sister did not fuss at him for holding onto it; they were already done with it.

Babbling and cooing as he gnawed, the puppy stared at the ceiling of the den. By now, his eyes had opened to perhaps half mast. Everything was still fuzzy and blurry but Relonikiv didn't even realize it, of course. He loved this new sense, just as he loved everything, even his browbeating eldest brother, Trajan, and this hand-me-down bone. The tiny pup smiled up at the stone ceiling, grinning and drooling. The view might have been bland from here but the baby dragon was nonetheless content, enjoying it and the traces of blood and marrow still left on his chew toy.