Wild Berry Meadow Tell everybody I'm on my way

Stark didn’t respond immediately to her quip, he instead continued eating, the soft rustle of the meadow grasses accompanying the shared noises of their berry picking. At her mockery, he spared her a sidelong glance, his yellow eye looming at her as it usually did, but the faintest twitch of his scarred lip hinted at his restrained amusement.

“You think your corpse is worth the effort?” he replied evenly, but his sharp tone betrayed his musing. If she wanted to bark, he was more than willing to bark back. “Better to leave it for the crows. They would see to it that you were put to good use.” His nostrils twitched, inhaling an even, grating breath in attempt to bite back his laughter at his own joke.

He'd let her find her own way, as he always would, observing silently as she plucked a berry with exaggerated force, crushing it between her teeth. It was then he allowed himself a laugh, as brief as it was, head tossing in a bemused jerk. She began to greedily snoop through the bushes, and Stark's tail tucked along his haunches, swaying ever so gently.

He offered no indulgence, no coddling, because she didn’t need it. She needed the truth, harsh and unyielding. And yet, in moments like this—when her guard fell, and her youthful eagerness broke through—he couldn’t help but feel a grudging pride. He tsked, snorting as her maw began to stain dark with the juice of the berries she gorged herself on.

"You eat all the berries, there will be nothing to feed those deer you love so much."