Hailstone's eyes followed the last year's walnut shells as if he were hypnotized. Using a flat rock as a table, Bug moved the empty nut shells with a tiny stone inside. When she stopped, Hailstone stood up, but he was too slow again. Storge placed her paw over the correct walnut's shell. She only made mistakes when her attention was distracted by something else. Bug stroked her daughter's head, barely holding back a smile at Hailstone's frustrated whimper. To prevent any quarrels among her children, she took a whole walnut and rolled it to her son. The trick worked. The cub cautiously touched the nut, and when it’s rolled, jumped in delight. Forgetting about the previous game, Hailstone took up the new one with rapture.

Spot was sitting beside them, although the game interested him less than the other pups. He preferred more active leisure. But his attempt to start a game of tag failed. Unlike him, the younger cubs were far more curious about the walnut shells. Bug wasn't sure if it was a certain stage of growing up for wolf ants, or if her children were simply different. After quickly studying the area around the nest, they yearned for a longer journey into the woods. Longer also meant far more dangerous and that she couldn't allow yet.

‘They are still so young. What if they meet someone from the village? What if hunters appear?', even though the villagers had never gone so deep into the forest, these kinds of parental worries had nothing to do with the facts. She knew that other wolf ant cubs at that age already walked around with adults. But her children grew slower. At least that was her excuse.

To keep the pups busy, Bug started making toys for them. She could not create anything fancy, but the cubs were excited about any new game or toy. The wolves' senses made hide-and-seek a useless idea, but they enjoyed playing with walnut shells. Bug tried to remember what she liked doing as a child. She had to start working early, and after her mother died, there was no desire or time for play. Another problem was that she was surrounded by man-made things. In the forest, there was little she could do with her bare hands. Seeing how her son and daughter were rolling the whole walnut around, Bug came up with a few ideas.

The first one didn't require much work, but it was hard to find. She remembered all kinds of balls that children enjoyed playing with in the village. Thinking hard, Bug tried to imagine how she could make one from the gifts of the forest. The fruits of the rocky tree were heavy, but those that had been cracked by badgers lost their shape. Still, it was better than nothing. She looked for an appropriate fruit and, when she found one, she brought it to the nest. It was heavier than an actual ball, but still pleased the cubs. They rolled and jumped on it, trying to catch it with their paws and teeth. Spot joined the game too, so it was a success.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

For another game, Bug collected all sorts of things. The bouncy pink feather of stork hopper, the colorful rocks from the creek, the colorful stones from the stream, the bright shells of insects, and various tree leaves - all these items were useful for the teaching game. When the cubs gathered around the pile of "treasures", Bug started organizing the items into smaller groups. There were many possibilities: the ones for each type of thing, or the ones based on color.

She wanted to teach them logic, but it should also have helped them use their small mandibles to perform precise and complicated tasks. Like her mother used beans to develop child’s fine motor skills, Bug used tiny rocks and other objects to develop the cubs'. The wolf ants used mandibles as tools; however, most of the tasks didn't require such a high level of care. They probably learned it naturally, but she wanted her children to excel in everything. The pups' golden eyes followed her actions carefully, watching as she used her mandibles to carry and group items. Maybe it was just a mother's wishful thinking, but Bug was sure that her and Kindhearted's cubs were more intelligent than others.

Just as she was thinking about him, the Kindhearted stepped onto the meadow, accompanied by Clear-Eyed and a few other workers. He returned from hunting carrying a hind leg of a spitting boar. The plump creatures were a good source of meat for the swarm. However, if dealt carelessly, the hunters risked finding themselves in a sticky liquid that boars use as a defense measure. Bug remembered how she had attacked one, despite being noticed by the boar. It took several days to fully remove the fur from the glue-like liquid as well as it's stench. Hunting on these animals was banned in Kushane due to their similarity to pigs. Seeing her mate return with the treat without any glue meant that the hunt had been successful.

While others were storing the meat inside the nest, Kindhearted lay down his share before his family. The cubs had forgotten all about the game they had been playing just a minute ago. Fiercely, they attacked the boar's leg, chewing on its flesh. They have grown enough to eat solid food now, but they still liked sweets.

Bug noticed a trickle of blood on Kindhearted's muzzle and licked it. The salty taste of boar's blood tingled her tongue. Carried away, she also cleaned her mate's cheek. The wolf sat patiently. When she pulled away, Kindhearted straightened up, holding his head proudly. The sight of a mighty hunter, pleased with her tender gesture, made Bug giggle. ‘Well, aren't you so dashingly handsome?’ nuzzling into Kindhearted's shoulder and feeling the strong muscles behind his soft fur, thought Bug.