All welcome, but maybe @Skoll or other.
It also helped stave off both her loneliness and longing for milk. Attica could only recall three different wolves that came to keep her company. The white with milk, the one she spent the most time with and yearned for the most; the black one who always made the white one cross; and, her brother, who was typically the most fun. Other than that though, she was frequently left to her own devices, and it was getting harder and harder to entertain her puppy mind. She dragged her large stick in her teeth, the long wood dragging its other edge along the ground behind her. She waddled out of the den excitedly, tail wagging back and forth. She did her best to toss the heavier stick forward, then bounded after it to show it her wrath once more. If no one was going to spend time with her, then her and her stick would be happy out in the sunshine. This world smelled so much better, and was brighter -- despite her mother's warnings to remain hidden.