Redhawk Caldera at least we try.

Her son froze at the sound of her growl and peered up at her.  She knew it was coming - had known before she'd even begun this endeavor that this was where it would lead.  Fin sucked in a deep breath before she looked down at his face.

The eyes.

He unleashed the eyes.

Part of Finley suspected it was an art he'd been developing since he'd first come into this world.  There was too much skill in that perfect crinkle of his eyelids, the way they trimmed those sweet little orbs like the vintage oak and beech frame that held the Mona Lisa protectively inside, accentuating the emotion of the portrait without stealing the spotlight.  The sweet pout of his lip - subtle, not too overly dramatic, but still so full of expression.  That paired with the lilt of his ears and the downtrodden slip of his head.  How was any creature on this earth supposed to resist, let alone the angel's very own mother?

"Mommy loves her little Jay," Fin assured him, her expression softening for a moment.  She forced her gaze away from his quivering lip to stare hard at the meat he'd abandoned.  She reached for her resolve and grasped desperately onto it.  She could do this.  No matter how heartbreakingly adorable he was, this was for his benefit, and so she could do it.  "Go eat your dinner, buddy," she said firmly, gesturing with her muzzle at the meat and fixing his forehead with another stern gaze, trying desperately to avoid looking at his round, emotive eyes.