Redhawk Caldera You'll be always on my mind

It was good that Killdeer's sense of smell was still in the works, because whew. The kid was stanky. Luckily for them all, Towhee cleaned him up relatively quickly, and besides, it could be worse. His shit still had the milk-sweet aroma of an infant, not the carnivore pungency that would come later. 

And there was not much of it, anyway. His little face eased at his grandmother's ministrations, and while he let out another small fart, this one was mercifully dry. 

Making small, piggish grunts, Killdeer nestled into the hollow of Towhee's throat, enjoying the warmth of her and the vibrations of her pulse and each word she spoke.