Heron Lake Plateau Stars come swimming out of the horizon.

Oh my fuzzy wolfgods it was breathing on him! Was this strange partwolf monster preparing to pull off its mask, to reveal the feather-shedding creature with a toothy maw concealed beneath in preparation for swalloing him whole?! No...actually, it seemed it was just puffing a comforting bit of warmth on his rusty little earflap, still a benevolent monster at heart. Owen supposed (after a moment of thought) that was pretty okay then. Although then again, maybe if he could convince it to eat @Vasa instead that might make the place smell a little better... ponder, ponder.

But not all monsters were puppy-eaters. (Alas.) In fact, this one seemed to be concerning herself much more with making sure baby Kite was getting nutrition into her own belly than with filling up its own stomach with anything, or anyone. He spent a few more minutes sampling the bizarre array of scents the weird hybrid had brought inside with her before he turned awkwardly back with a mental shrug. The small furrows of dirt his motions overturned were a blessedly cool if slightly-scratchy presence against his skin. He floundered until he was pointed in mostly the right direction and then battled his way back toward Raven's beckoning belly. He was not going to let Not-Mommy here feed all the best milk to tiny @Kite. Owen needed as much of that steroidal hulking-up juice as he could get, too, if he was going to grow big and strong and run about confronting monsters like this! He was sure not every strange creature he encountered was destined to be as benign and obliging as this one, after all. He supposed he could let itty-bitty Kite share some of that wonderful milk, he allowed—she was awfully scrawny and sticklike every time he stepped on her, after all—but Owen needed more of it just as much or more than her, he stubbornly maintained as he squirmed his way back into place, not particularly caring who or how much he had to claw his way through on the way, as usual. At least he wasn't having to outright shove a Phoebe off his favorite teat today!

But as Owen greedily placed his paws to either side of the nipple he squealed and yanked one paw back all of a sudden. That stupid stubborn bit of fluff was still hanging on, and it tickled! Oh my gosh. This was Not Acceptable. He wanted it off his foot. NOW. He didn't want to turn into some sort of freakish wolfbirdthing monster too...shoot, was the condition contagious?!