Moonspear a place to anchor

They continued for a time, chasing away mournful silence for a while. They eventually fell back into quietude. Atlas feels renewed, in a sense. Bolstered, he stands up and leaps for Dirge's chest with a diabolical chortle. He takes a mouthful of fur and munches it, mindful of teeth. He's not about to squander this good mood. Too bad his good mood meant slobber for papa.

Busy alternating between licks, tugs, and nibbles, Dirge's words nearly miss him.

Yeah, comes his noncommital reply between a mouth full of fur. 'N errbody else, too.