Qeya River Clover leaves and dandelions

Ksura was not capable of hiding his surprise. His head tilted and his ears pricked as he interpreted that Silvertongue had been a mother once before. Alongside his curiosity came a mild sense of dread. He assumed she was only old enough to have had two litters, and deduced that any other children she had would be just a year old now- and yet they weren’t present. He tried to re-evaluate her age, but found himself staring a bit too hard at her pretty features, distracted by her looks rather than the task of sussing out her age. 

She knew children, though- and knew that this year’s batch would soon be old enough to begin hunting. He smiled faintly, though it faded. An unbidden memory of Mira’s children came to him, lingering for a moment. They’d become separated before he could teach them how to hunt, and that reality felt brutal. 

”Soon enough,” He echoed, trying to summon a bit more enthusiasm. Mira and her children hadn’t been on his mind lately- the memory felt intrusive. 

Not your fault. This time, it’s not your fault.

The mention of easy prey caused him to reflect again on his fascination with sheep; the memory of killing simply because it was easy- and the repercussions. He wasn’t sure if Silvertongue was fishing for more details- but the hapless man was easy to hook. 

”Well…” He shrugged. He couldn’t bail now- he’d seem shifty, dishonest. ”Easy prey’s good, sure. Just…As long as it doesn’t invite…Yeah.” Invite what? He wasn’t making sense. He blurted out an explanation. ”I got hit by one of those hunters that keep the flock. I survived but I don’t think everyone else did, so…Lesson learned, for me, about…Easy hunting isn’t always the best.” His voice grew thin, and he his posture shrank a bit. ”I can at least teach kids that…If they’ll listen.”