Moonspear halp!

Caracal was used to being hit and stepped on by his children at this point, so he didn’t stir when someone nudged at him. He didn’t react right away when a foul odor filled the air, either. With the six of them in the den and fewer than half of them properly potty trained, a little stench wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But, man, this one really stank. Caracal’s nose wrinkled and he groaned, rolling his head and cracking open an eye. He was about to ask which one of them had taken a dump right under his nose when everything came back to him with the suddenness of a thunderclap.

He bounced to his feet like some sort of cartoon character, the movement kicking the smelly plant toward his would-be helper. Paying no attention to this, Caracal blinked at the stranger—the resemblance to Maxim was kind of uncanny—and finally remembered to speak.

Hey, man, I really need to see my mom. Her name is Towhee. Do you know her? Can you go get her, by any chance? he begged in a sleepy slur.