my love isn't lost, it's all I've got

Everyone else had cool weapons, and now the blond prince wanted his own. So, he was going to make something. What was it, exactly? No clue. Regardless, he had some rocks and sticks that he'd carefully selected from the scree slope just outside the den, and he was ready to make some magic happen. He parked his butt in the warm grass of the valley that was encircled by the Dreamer's Col, where he knew his parents could see him. The grass was soft, and he liked how it tickled his nose when he laid down on it. Why not laze around in the grass while he tried to make a good weapon?

First, the boy tried to bash the rocks together with awkward, uncertain paws in hopes of making a sharp edge on one of them. For the most part, he was only successful in making some very loud clacking noises that nearly deafened him each time. By the time he decided to give up, he was a bit winded.

Rather than continue to waste his time on the stupid rocks, he stared at the sticks he'd carried down the mountainside. Well.. maybe he could chew one of them into a point. Stabby stick. By the time he'd gotten into a rhythm of chewing the end of the first stick, the sensation had become so enthralling and mind numbing that he forgot there was any purpose to the act than the sheer delight of chewing... Yummy stick go crunch crunch..