Redhawk Caldera i slipped on ma' beans.

Glee giggled when her sister denied it. She knew a fib when she heard one being so practiced at them herself. She looked up at the tree again and pondered. They were close enough to the creek that she could always wash herself off before going back to her mother. If what Ceridwin said now was true—and she was inclined to believe her now—it was an important tactic for hunting.

Her pondering was interrupted by the idea of becoming some big monster's snack. She grinned. "They can't eat me—I'm too tough," she insisted with a wag of her tail. She was referring to her personality, of course, even though in all ways, she was just a little gumdrop in wolf's clothing.

"Do you roll in poos when you hunt?" she asked, honestly curious, "I dunno if I wanna be a hunter. I like prowling, but I don't think I like catching. Can I be a hunter that finds but not catches?"