Redhawk Caldera i was twelve years old and bullet proof

The new base of operations was, well, new, and the boy was none too content to sit idle on his ass. There was a whole new world down this way for him to explore, and for as many hours as his legs could sustain he busied himself scouring the lands surrounding the rendezvous site. He paused only to harass some unsuspecting family member, to eat, and to nap, restoring energy to his growing body so that he could romp again. This day would be no different.

Ferret arose early, before anyone else except some chickadee that chirped from a nearby branch, and started his daily routine. He went toward the south this time, nose to the ground, following a trail of something or the other. His stomach rumbled, and he lifted his head to glance back at his family before his eyes settled on a nearby fern. He had but one question for this plant as he peered at the broad leaves and tall stems, a question that he was beginning to ask of many of the things he discovered on his expeditions: can I eat that?

Only one way to find out.

With a rawr! Ferret lurched forward and clamped his teeth onto the nearest frond, shaking his head as he ripped and tore at the fern like a savage, land-bearing crocodile.