Redhawk Caldera Hitting the tables without you again

Peter went down like a sack of potatoes (or maybe just one potato) and Peregrine chuckled under his breath at his puppy's startled reaction. He did not apply pressure or weight, careful not to harm the boy, though his paw momentarily rested atop Peter's body. He felt the frailty there, the bones stretching the skin and the lightness of his atrophied muscles. The father very nearly recoiled. His stomach clenched and he stroked his toes down Peter's tiny spine, feeling the knobs pressing against the underside of his paw.

Then Peter rolled out from beneath the Alpha's paw and gave him a quizzical look. Peregrine's eyes watered but he managed to huff a laugh at the endearing innocence of that expression. "You sure you don't want an ear, lil' Pete? Or maybe one of these?" He lifted his paw again, wiggling his black toes right in front of the cub's face. "I'm dead serious," he added in a low tone, jade eyes tracking over Peter's sunken face and skinny legs before slowly closing as a foreboding feeling came over him.