Bramblepoint red-hawk for dinner

Given his mother's recent antics, it wasn't quite a comforting site when she took him from the bushes to meet a stranger - and a creature, of sorts.

He wouldn't speak, watching the lips of the newcomer while he pressed into Leto's side. He knew conversation would be exchanged, and he assumed it was going to be about him. Another pack to move into, another wolf who she swore would do more good than harm. Something.

Delos understood she meant well, but he didn't much trust his mother's judgement anymore. Nothing had helped him yet, not really. She hid him and bushes, rubbed mud into his fur, and that was the extent of it. He was content to keep literally living in her shadow, because watching her get her hopes up like this was growing to be disheartening.