Swiftcurrent Creek Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime

Valtýr didn't notice his mother's fatigued look or the wet glaze upon her eye. He was entirely consumed by the wobbly creature she had place before them. It was a bird of some kind... he knew that much... but its condition didn't look so good. Its feathered were matted, and the sharp scent of blood was in the air. To other puppies, especially Maera, it might have been an enticing meal or play thing... but to Valtýr (who had been recently traumatized by his destruction of a beetle) only looked at the fowl with concern in his gaze.

His sooty head watched the miserable half-dead creature fall to the ground, and he approached it cautiously, ears picked but body roached. He shuffled over to Maera for support, noticing Larus wasn't among them. Two were better than one. "Wazzat," he whispered as he nudged her, not knowing if he should help it or attack it.