Sun Mote Copse “A hug is always the right size.” —Winnie the Pooh

As soon as he let it go, he realized exactly how much force he'd put into the toss but could do nothing but wordlessly watch as the pheasant flew through the air, limp as a daisy, and smacked his sister right in the face. Paralyzed with dread, he helplessly watched it turn end over end, as though in slow motion, its path ending with a soft thud as it hit Meerkat square in the nose. There was a moment of hesitatin where it almost looked as though Meerkat was simply going to laugh it off- until the both of them noticed the thread of blood that dripped from her nose. 

She didn't cry out- but Towhee was there in an instant while Bronco still stood stock still, shocked at what he'd done. The majority of Towhee's soothing tones went over his head as he was slammed by a wave of cold, heavy guilt. His stomach clenched as his gaze fell to the little spot on the ground where Meerkat's blood had fallen. He looked up when Towhee stepped back, suddenly called back to reality- but at the worst possible moment. His trembling ears caught every single word of her description. And as if on cue, as soon as she mentioned birth-

-his jaw dropped and he projectile-vomited straight down onto the ground between his forefeet, like something out of a cheesy teen film.