Redhawk Caldera shakin' that thang like who's da ish.

Elwood was glad that Finley had finally given in to his protests regarding the size of her den. While he enjoyed snuggling to its fullest, he more often than not left the burrow with cramped muscles and stiff joints from being pretzeled alongside Finley. He had tried not to complain at first, but the more time they spent there, the more of a problem it became.

So he was busily digging away at the den, his hind paws planted solidly just outside the entrance and providing him balance as his forelegs worked. He churned dutifully at the soil, naively unaware of the way Finley was ogling his rear end. Eventually, the sound of her giggles aroused his suspicion -- and then he heard her voice purling from behind him.

She wanted some oomph? He gave his butt a little shake, then stretched his back, reaching further into the confines of the dwelling and slowly -- ever so slowly -- drawing the dirt back. "You like what you see?" he called, his voice muffled by the earthen walls around him.