Redhawk Caldera A-a-and clean this place up or dungeon!

With the return of the food bag (Raven), Titmouse's protests were limited to squeaks and chirps rather than screeching and yowling. He still dripped red-streaked snot as he bumbled along, but the boy was more focused on the prospect of food and less concerned about the coppery taste he would one day associate with blood. When he thought he'd stumbled nearer to his target he steadied himself, took a second to aim, and then there was takeoff! With his mouth open, Titmouse aimed for a teat — fully intending to latch on and nibble a bit, then probably drink something and pass out — but he easily missed the mark and slammed right in to the hungry Phox.