Heron Lake Plateau and rut them 'gainst the forest floor

Svalinn was beginning to feel confined in the Eyjolfur den, even despite his almost histrionic attachments to @Caiaphas and @Raleska. More than just his eyes had begun to transition, and the growing boy was becoming less interested in naptimes and more interested in farther treks. To him the world was limitless, and he had boundless energy to take it on -- if only his mother would stop leading him back to the densite!

She gave him a longer leash this time. He'd already run into trouble before in this manner of being alone, but it had been proven to all parties involved that here on the Plateau he was never really alone. Still, he was more hesitant in his goings -- pausing to sniff longer at unfamiliar scents, and tensing at every sound outside the native birdsong and breeze-whispering. It was a warm day, perhaps too warm for any predator to be running any grand chases, but Svalinn spent his daylight hunting for someone or something to disturb...

And with great luck, he managed to come across an injured bird before anything else. It struggled and flapped about with a badly twisted wing, and now it was being harried on the ground by a butterball with sharp teeth: snapping and trying to silence its terrified screeches for good.

Tags for reference -- anyone, please!