Swiftcurrent Creek sporks

His ears wouldn't open properly for a while yet, though his other senses (sight, smell, touch) told him everything Relonikiv needed to know about his present situation. His mother and siblings were resting and he was free to shuffle about the den. Aunt Bazi was around too and he favored her with a cherubic smile before going back to his explorations. When she spoke, he dully picked up on the noise and he looked at her again, expression inquisitive. He sniffed the air. It was her moving lips that really captured his attention. He grew still, watching.

Then she did something she had never done before: she opened her mouth and something red, pink and brown poured out of it onto the den floor. The runty pup blinked, perplexed but intrigued. He began scooting slowly toward the chunky mess. Then the smell hit him. His saliva glands activated and he whimpered happily. He began to wriggle much faster, suddenly very eager to reach what he instinctively understood was another form of food.

Lacking table manners of any kind, Relonikiv dove right into the heap of regurgitated meat. It was warm and soaked his snout and chest as he buried them in it. His tongue darted out to lick at the semi-solid sustenance. Behind him, his golden tail wagged rapidly.