Redhawk Caldera a feather for your hare

Jaws was pleased that his offerings were so well received, and watched with wonder as the pup checked out his newest gift, hardly aware of the minutes passing. When she began to cough and gag his ears fell to his skull - suddenly worried he had erred in giving her the fur, worried that the pup was choking. But her distress was very brief, only long enough for her to gulp the the fur down. Jaws snorted in amusement. His earlier uncertainty had gradually waned and the coywolf was now relaxed.

Pups were not so bad, he decided, at least not in small doses; but he could not imagine being responsible for them fully as a parent. For how confident he was in providing for his own survival, Jaws had been quite unsure about tending to the needs of the pack, that is, to mostly self-reliant adults. All he really had to do was contribute to food stores and keep an eye on the borders. Raising fragile, very dependent little wolves was an entirely different game, one he was not keen to play lest he do something wrong and end up killing the little buggers.

"I will bring her a whole bird next time," Jaws declared quietly, as he lay his chin on the ground, content to watch Wildfire rediscover the feather. Behind him, his gently wagging tail left swish marks in the snow as he blew a soft puff of breath in the pup's direction, making the feather flutter slightly in between her mashing her face against it.