So far Burdock had had a very good day. He had eaten, he had beaten @Violet in a game of fetch (in his own words - he had let her win, because she had had an unfair advantage of having longer legs), he had followed his father around, showering him in questions after questions, until he had been sent away to find mom. Who instead had been in the mood to entertain the demanding kid with stories. Here lies an explanation, what happened next.

You see, Burdock had by now outgrown the stage of pink and fluffy stories, where everything went well and moral. No. With every permanent tooth he got, the new predator to be grew thirsty for the real stories. The scarier they were (and if there was a bloodshed - even better), the better. And is there any greater tales to entertain little monsters than those of long fought wars? By the time he was out and about romping through the forest, he had forgotten the exact storyline of, what he had heard, rather he was reimagining and playing out particular scenes in is mind, where he was the mighty warrior, who - well beat all kinds of bad things: dragons (sticks), cursed plants (here some blueberry bushes felt the wrath of Burdock's claws and incomplete teethage), witches (that would have to wait - but he knew that his sisters were of the witch kind) and - well - others.

So, when he spotted Akavir and then the little company he was entertaining, Burdock wasted no time, bounded towards the gathering, gave a superficial look at the newcomers, then looked up at the leader and asked excitedly: "Are these going to be our slaves?" The boundless energy and enthusiasm in his voice probably gave an impression that slave-keeping was something Swiftcurrent creek practiced regularly. "Can I have the one with eyes like toad's?" he asked, pointing to the pup with golden eyes and, if you knew, what a beautiful colour the toad eyes had, you would understand that this was not an insult.