Swiftcurrent Creek sporks

Aunt Bazi smiled at him, the expression rather more mischievous than usual. Relonikiv returned it, his tongue lolling from his short, tapered muzzle. He began to scramble forward toward her, his belly dragging through the meat stew, when she saved him the trouble by plopping down in front of him. The suddenness of it all elicited an involuntary, Ooooo... from the littlest boy and he leaned backward, only to swoop back in and press his nose to hers.

That was when she blew a raspberry, her lips flapping and flinging saliva right into his face. Relonikiv gave a little yip of surprise, blinking rapidly. When it was over and little ropes of sparkling drool wreathed his head, his blue eyes widened and he stared up at his aunt in curious bewilderment. Naturally, he began to smile, then reared up to plant his forepaws around Bazi's snout even as his whip-like tail wagged in rapid circles.

Eyes shining, he batted her muzzle this time to tell her, Do it again! He complemented the motion with a happy, demanding, squeaky little excuse for a bark.