The pit looked at the fox.. Still waiting, a bit unphased by the stick. She remembered a while back her owner tried teaching her this, but she didn't get it, and as the fox whipped around with the stick, she still didn't get it. Sticks weren't fun. As soon as you got them, they'd wind up as splinters. She sat up, her sights still locked on him and again, her head tilted inquisitively. The fox let loose of the stick and it soared over her head, landing somewhere behind her. Her ears perked, but she didn't move from the bottom of the rock. She wagged her tail at him, paying no mind to the stick. Finally, after what seemed to be a long silence, she plodded off and stood under the three with the cat thing and plopped her rear down, looking up at it, her tail weakly beating against the ground. She wondered why they wouldn't come down.