Flycatcher Downs sweet little baby in a world full of pain

@Clay c: set April 6th, midday

Clarence liked this place. It was open, expansive, and prettier than the forests he was becoming used to. The ground was cold under his paws, but most of the snow had melted off under the sun. It was warm, comparitively, and the spotted boy felt like he was in heaven. Even if the ground was muddy and his legs were tired from what felt like endless travel. It was good to be in a place where he didn't feel trapped by trees or caves.

It wasn't that he didn't like his territory. Clarence didn't know the word for it, but it was a form of claustrophobia. Spending most of his life in a tiny cage, ready to be taken out and fought would do that to anyone. But it hurt his head to think about, so the piebald boy always pushed it into the back of his mind.

He paused in his walking, coming across a small bird in the mud. It was dead - a fledgling that hadn't thrived. Clarence frowned, nudging it with his nose to check if it was still alive.