Bearclaw Valley the great imitators

Ico had spent nigh two hours hunting down what had transpired to be a really rather poxy little rabbit. But he'd caught it, and killed it, and dropped it gently outside Astara's whelping den to further nourish the new mother and her pups. Oh it was barely a snack, but it was the best Ico could do. So hopefully they'd be nourished well enough by the good intentions of the offering.

Then the ivory youth padded back down to the river for a drink as dusk began to fall, his head full of puppy-thoughts. Ico hadn't yet set eyes upon the little ones, but their very existence blazed with promise. Compelled to speak his thoughts aloud, Ico mused that the youngest lives always began with the oldest words: Once upon a time...