Heron Lake Plateau I Hear the Wind Call My Name

Poor Quixote. Such a mystery why he and Raven might be more than a little tuckered out dealing now only with Owen and his fits and starts, but also with the foibles of three other pups at the same time...! Heck, Owen was younger and sprightlier and still preferred to hide his head and sleep inside the den and rest quite frequently, despite the allure of the outside world—he had trouble keeping up with his own mercurial quixoticness a lot of the time.

As it was he was about ready to go run back and hide right now, for that matter. He moaned and grabbed at Quixote's nearest leg, barely daring to roll his eyes to peek out behind him. Daddy had run off the antlermonster Owen had awoken awhile back, after all... would it not be better to wait and let him deal with this insectoid miscreant too, surely?! Quixote tried to tell him it wouldn't hurt him, but what caused Owen to stare most incredulously up at his father was the final suggestion. Ee it?! Owen had the sudden horrid vision of the thing trying to spring its surprise attacks from inside his tummy. Oh no, no no no, that was not something Owen was willing to risk! Quixote could go eat the damn thing himself if he really thought it was edible. Not to mention...had his father not said "that one"? That undoubtedly meant there were other, even deadlier bugs about, now didn't it. Owen's bluish eyes were a little wild as he tilted his head back a ways and rolled them quickly about the immediate vicinity. Now, if he was a merciless puppyeating bug, where would he be hiding...hmmmm. Bu'ih trai'ee me! he complained to Quixote. Totally not acceptable. Fix this now, dad.