Redhawk Caldera Elementary, my dear Watson

Slowly, the pulses slowed, then stopped. The puppy's head tilted to the side in wonder. Before she could think of what to do with the dead firefly—eat it, perhaps, or take it back home to her collection—a sound caught her attention. Wildfire glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see her mother, but instead saw the toothy face of the pack's dark Gamma. She sucked in a breath, which drew his scent into her little nose. Any anxiety she might have felt melted away, more or less, when she realized she recognized him.

Slowly turning to face him (and accidentally squashing the dead bug beneath a rear paw), Wildfire's mouth opened to say something when the bird suddenly hopped atop Jaws's head. It chirped, causing her ears to quiver, and the puppy blinked her golden eyes and asked, "Ooossa?" Curiosity burned in her gaze, which flicked sideways when she heard soft footfalls. It was her mother, who reclined nearby to observe. Wildfire's eyes shifted back to the gray jay, fixated upon him as she queried again, "Ossa?"