Swiftcurrent Creek the light goes out, my heart goes still and just like that, i believe in ghosts

She watched with eyes half-lidded with quiet amusement as Tiercel crept back out into the night. The girl only made it halfway before the owl hooted again, and the pungent scent of urine smacked Wylla in the nose. "Ugh," she exclaimed, pushing herself up and sweeping toward the den entrance. "Seriously, child, are you a mouse or are you a wolf?" Tiercel was doing a very convincing impression of prey. Owls didn't eat wolves, duh.

So says Wylla, with all her very official made up expertise.

"Get out," she grumbled, giving her daughter's damp rump a butt with her muzzle. "Learn to hold your ground and you'll be fine." She sounded uncaring, as she always did, taking cues from her own mother—not a good idea, hindsight would be 20/20 on this—but she wasn't about to let her only daughter be eaten by an owl. Her application for motherhood had discerned her questionable quality for the job, but she'd been chosen for it anyway. She would keep Tiercel alive. She couldn't promise much else. So she hovered near, attempting to reassure Tiercel that she wasn't going to become the content of an owl's pellets.