Qeya River devil trigger

Phoebe couldn’t hear much yet, but she could hear the sounds of what she believed, in ye olden instincts, to be some kind of exotic bird. She released what toes she had managed to fit into her gullet, wobbily raising her head to exchange glances with the bird-mom-creature.

Her first words to her mother’s face are an elegant “horfk”, like a walrus, before she is trying to down the contents of the fur around her dewclaws. Not a single fuck given for her milestone, sorry ma. She’s got fur to munch.