Kvitrafn’s ear twitched in mild indignation as she huffed and puffed (secretly, so as not to let her mother know her displeasure at being forced to give up her pile of teeth…not that it was necessarily hers to begin with; most of them had been from Roskva’s mouth, but still.) Her ears flattened across her skull at the mention of such praise.

And when her mother would pose the question, Kvitrafn would lift her eyes to stare into her mother’s one-eyed perception. Roskva would answer first, however, drawing a glance from the white raven toward her larger sister. She wasn’t wrong, she considered, but Kvitrafn had her own ideas. They are sharp and pointy, she echoed with her own flare of confidence, Powerful enough to mark another.

But that hadn’t been it, either.

‘Communication,’ her mother said, and had it not been for the show of teeth beneath her paws, perhaps Kvitrafn would’ve rolled her eyes. Who cared about talk when you had clubs and teeth?

Though even if that had been the truth, Sreda’s words needled something inside her own chest as she turned to her sister. Roskva is too strong to break, she murmured as her eyes searched her larger sister’s expression. Truly, she did not think her sister was capable of breaking as her mother so warned, but what did Kvitrafn know anyway? 

butimsorryiguess, she mumbled quickly with flattened ears.

But her discomfort wouldn't last long, because the minute the girls had seemingly apologized, a prize awaited them at the finish line. Their teeth! Or well, primarily Roskva’s teeth and a few of Kvitrafn’s own.

Her head swung toward her sister at the mention of the stick, and then, surprisingly, how it had been Kvitrafn who had hit her sister first. In any other situation, Kvitrafn was sure such an admittance would’ve landed her in disappointment jail—but seeing as the prize was their very own teeth and their consequence a measly apology, Kvitrafn would not squander what she had been given.

She squealed in delight as her front paws tippy-tapped against the solid earth as she roamed a hungry gaze toward the remaining teeth.

Were…some missing?

She could’ve sworn—

A mental shrug dissuaded the investigation that a part of her brain wished to explore, and instead, she took one of the largest baby molars that had fallen from her sister’s mouth. She’d keep this one.

And the rest, Roskva could have, she decided.

After her pickings, Kvitrafn stood to the side.

Yours, she motioned with her muzzle as she kept one of Roskva’s molars between her toes.

She liked this one very much.