Redtail Rise paradox

sunlight filters into the den, a summery glow of dancing yellow and gold. tuesday's dawn, at the present moment, was transfixed by this; the shapes of the shadows and the way they carved out multidimensional figures. being as young as he was, a lot of this was still new to him as his brain got used to controlling this gray-pelted meat sack, and as such, the simplest of things entertained him.
such as a centipede, which now crawled along between blades of sharp grass and skittered effortlessly across the dirt and clay. the dawn boy felt as if it was taunting him!
he rolls out from his nest which was settled in the back corner of the den and begins to crawl toward the entrance, squinting as his eyes adjust to the brightness. he waits for a second, and then another, and then —
a shockingly loud slap could be heard as he squishes the creature down into the dirt, smushing as hard as he can with all the might in his two forepaws. when he peels back, there are slimy bug guts between his toes.
he cannot quite decide if it was worth it or not.
but, now thinking himself to be the greatest predator who ever lived, he whines and whuffs for his family to come see his accomplishment.