Bearclaw Valley Fantastic Mr.Fox

The girl did not rush over to greet him, leaving Xan to go to her; he was still getting used to the idea of having children—that there were pieces of him running around. There were many things that he might never understand or even think to  try and understand but, as his daughter’s breath fanned out over his muzzle, instincts seemed to kick in and encouraged the pieces of the puzzle to click into place:  she was hungry. Too bad, the albino had not brought anything along to offer to her, and he just wasn’t a fan of the whole regurgitation thing; that which he ate he felt should remain within his own body. But there were other options to satisfy the child’s hunger, and one in particular that he was far more keen on the idea of.

“I don’t have anything,” he admitted, bumping his nose against her muzzle in a somewhat apologetic manner. “But we can find something, if you’re interested in that.” Honestly, he had no idea how early was too early to encourage the further development of a whelp’s prey drive—but he assumed now was as good a time as any, either way.