Her jaw hurt. Budding fangs meant that her maw perpetually ached, and the insatiable urge to chew on every single thing that came across her path nearly got her in several instances of trouble. The sticks of the pine trees that littered the camp had become her favorite thing to chew on, but it had gotten to a point that the onyx-furred molly snapped nearly every single stick the moment she attempted to gnaw on it. Frustration was beginning to bundle up in her little body, and it had her skittering around camp to find someone to play with. Or, ideally, gnaw on.
Hopping about the camp, her ears wiggled excitedly as she spotted a cat whose fur may as well have been the opposite of hers. It was only several more bounds before she found herself at the unsuspecting cats side, and a half-toothy grin appeared on her maw as she once more got the urge to chomp. Every inch of her little kit body wanted to surprise the older feline by clamping her teeth right around their paw, and just as it seemed like she would as she opened her mouth wide...
"Excuse me, miss..? I need help finding something to chew on. My fangs are coming in and it hurts, and mama Swiftheart is busy." Instead of the suspecting bite came an overly polite voice, spoken with just a slight lisp from the mismatched budding teeth. Wide, hopeful, honey-yellow eyes awaited the answer of her chosen friend, and her entire body wriggled with hope... and withheld impulses.
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