Dragoncrest Cliffs all right

quennell not knowing what was being said did not stop him from further delight.

overstimulated, perhaps, with so many new things. the rumbling of his brother was a good, favorable sound. the feeling of the clam shell was too. the taste of it? mm, questionable.

and it was nothing more than comedic timing that he scrunched his face up when sobo spoke of loko. chanting a babbling string of ooOooO! over and over again. shell with its sour taste briefly abandoned so that he could worm his way closer to sobo's stomach, the one thing keeping him from the world beyond the den.

he could find amusement here, in the pale furs of his brother.