Moonspear a place to anchor

Heeding his dam's call, Atlas issues a stifled roo-ooo into his father's plush fur before a paw knocks him away. He is quick is rasp those razors against the delicate pads of Dirge's paw. But otherwise, he is content merely to rub his teeth against some fleshy thing, though Dirge's accounts give him pause. Stretching, he rests one back paw on dad's shoulder.

Warn...For predators, right? An' outside woofs. He frowns. Woovs. He's saying it too fast. How did Hydra say it? Woolves. Bingo.