Blackfeather Woods You didn't see that coming?

Pietro was restless in the den beside @Kendra. His limbs were growing, and though there was nothing definitively pained on his body that he could identify, the boy felt overly warm and highly uncomfortable. It was early still when he found that he could no longer lie there— but not so early that their father hadn't already taken his dutiful leave— and without rousing his sister, he departed: tired and grumpy. His mood did not improve as he walked along the trails of Blackfeather most familiar to him, taking in the various scents of prey, family, and spring.

The warming days were pleasant (not that Pietro noticed much of the evolving scenery) and the sounds of nature were growing. The sparse winter cawing of crows and ravens were now accompanied by the songs of insects, and local fauna as they emerged in the absence of freezing temperatures. He didn't pay attention to these things, but his troubled focus was stolen by something he hadn't encountered before— an anthill.

The random mound of dirt confused him. Who had buried something so poorly? Whomever the culprit was had never buried a bone properly before; such a noticeable pile as this was no suitable way to hide one's possessions. Thinking he might improve on the construction— make it flatter, less conspicuous— Pietro dug an oversized forepaw into the dirt. A second, two seconds beat by, and then the fury of the ants rose like the tide. They poured out of the opening he had created, and in his immediate confusion the boy watched as they marched on him.

At first there was only a mild tingle of discomfort, then his paw became littered with an angry army traveling up his leg, the sensation turned sharply to pain. He yelped, jumping back as the insects bit him in savage multitudes. Pietro shouted and growled repeatedly, switching between the two sounds as he tried vigorously to shake the creatures off.