Stone Circle Little hawk

She catches a kick in her maw, pinching one black toe with the tops of her fangs and raising her lips in mock-annoyance.

“Me too, kid,” a groan evolves into a lengthy stretch as she reaches to capture her son between two forearms and pull him close to see into his handsome little face. His eyes are soulful and piercing green like his father’s now.

“You’re old enough to hunt. What’s for breakfast?”