Dawnlark Plains and she's buying a stairway to heaven

Radcliffe squealed and struggled, and finally Shale found it right to intervene, nudging Timberlake until the boy rolled over in a heap of dark fur. "All right, kiddo, that's enough," he said, the slightest edge of sternness to his voice. "You won--you don't need to rub it in. Leave off Cliffey for a bit and come tackle me instead."

The oldest boy looked perturbed by the intrusion for a moment, whining, but soon was content to pounce on Shale's tail and wrestle with it instead. While his son treated him like a chew toy, Shale turned his attention to Radcliffe once more, running his tongue in a soothing fashion over the pup's downy golden head. He was warm and smelled of earthy things--sod, milk, and Pema, with the hint of greenery that always clung to her pelt.

"You're okay, bud," he whispered, nuzzling his second son. "I've got your back. Don't worry." He flopped down to be at eye level with Radcliffe, ignoring Timberlake--for now--as he clambered onto his back haunch. Cliffey was awfully quiet, not much in the way of words. Shale wondered if he spoke much at all. "What's on your mind, kid?"