Moonspear it gets better

Sea lions. His brows were crinkled in concentration as he sized up the peculiar creatures that Charon marked as potentially dangerous. The way they moved was odd to him, and the more he saw, he still felt vaguely weirded out by them. Much like Vela, he saw the ways they lacked--compared to traditional prey and predators that he was used to observing. No claws, no horns, no hooves, and frankly, they didn't look too fast to him. They don't even have real legs... he said, skeptical, but willing to believe his dad since he knew best, having grown up in a place like this. Still, they were strange sights to see. How do you even tell if they're limping? he asked, since they looked like they just drug themselves around anyway.

He didn't see any immediate signs of sickness on them, not that he could tell well what that was supposed to mean for the likes of sea lions. They were difficult to judge for him. There's that smaller one over there, he said, gesturing to one sort of away from the rest, but not by much, and it didn't look dying necessarily. Just smaller. Maybe younger? He didn't know. By the tone of his voice, he wasn't overly convinced that this was a worthy pursuit; maybe Dad had better ideas, or could eyeball them better. Jarilo was just guessing really.