Bearclaw Valley the conqueror worm

her eyes grow impossibly wider as the stranger. . .makes. . .sound. a kind of sound she's not heard from either her mother nor brother (and had been deaf when her father had spoken to her, outside the den). her lower jaw drops slightly, moving idly, wondering: how? what? the language has no meaning; only the noise is monumental and foreign to her.

Avicus makes an inquisitive chirp, still caught inside a growl, and tilts her head nearly ninety degrees. she remembers the worm, then, and bends down, all while keeping eye contact with the wolf outside. she picks it up, takes several brave, stumbling steps outside the den, and flings it with all her might at the woman.

if she is so different, what else does she know? can she tell Avicus why the thing once moved but moves no longer?

alas, she has the strength of an infant, and the creature lands only a tail-length or so away—not nearly far enough to reach Galena. still, her courage is spent, and she backpedals into the den, growling once more. one of her forepaws stamps the ground idly; she presses on it with the other, thinking. . . if i press hard enough, will i stop moving?

ouch! it becomes painful, and she ceases the experiment. what would it take? what has she done?