A story to tell

It was dark. It was always dark. Stori flopped over, grabbing a chewing stick. This was a new stick, the bark was still peely and green underneath. The pup set to making sure that bark wouldn't get a chance to dry over his smooth, pretty stick. Small teeth worked their way between the wood, tugging up the dark, flakey tree-skin. After a while, slobber covered the majority of the stick, but most of the bark was still on. Maybe the bark was already drying out! Stori set to work with more force, his teeth stabbing into the wood. He would have finished the stick, but a call rang out for him. Katja? Stori scrambled to his feet, stick hanging unevenly from his maw. His ears perked. Did she really call him? After a second, he took off, his large paws hammering away at the ground until he came to see the woman, "Kafa!" he called around his stick, careful not to drop it. He padded up to her and dipped his head to drop the stick gingerly on the ground, "Is something happening?"