Redhawk Caldera a toast to bread, for without bread, there could be no toast

In the weeks following his discovery of how to whistle, the boy had become incredibly adept at it. He could whistle high, he could whistle low, he could whistle quick and he could whistle slow. He could whistle any note that he could hear, which in lieu of music (the wilds were generally sparse of this) tended to be bird song, and had a remarkable memory for cataloging their calls and melodies. It was an extension of the talent he had developed for emulating squirrels, and it would not stop there. Ferret was to become a talented mimic.

For now, he focused on the birds, one of the few things around that he could impersonate. Crouched in a bush, he started to whistle and chirp like a chickadee, the same bird he had 'spoke' to when he had first discovered this new skill. He was well concealed, and gradually, over the course of ten minutes, a few curious chickadees flew in closer. They alighted on the branch, turning their heads, peering and peeking, as if wondering what bird made the sound. They took no notice of him, but his muscles began to quiver with anticipation, and saliva collected in his mouth.

One bird then landed on the branch just in front him, and Ferret lunged at it. His teeth clipped feathers and the alarmed bird chirruped frantically as it tried to take off, but Ferret snapped at again, this time knocking it off course. The deft little creatured flitted and climbed through the twigs with gnashing teeth chasing after, but in the end, it escaped, and all Ferret had to show for his efforts was a few white downy feathers clinging to his mouth and his fur snagged in the brush. Frustrated, hungry, and exhausted, the bandit roared,

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAWWWW!"

As it so happened, just as young Ferret was emitting a snarl of frustration and anger, so too was his Aunt Finley. She had forgotten just how uncomfortable and irritating it was to be pregnant. Each day that passed came with her increased girth. It was awkward to lay, it was awkward to walk. It was awkward and uncomfortable to simply exist anymore, and the gnawing hunger did not help one bit. Her own cry of dismay was fueled by these reasons, much unlike her godson who had an actual excuse for being grumbly in that particular moment. Fin was just being bitchy in general.

Unfortunately, her own moaning did not distract her from the sound of Ferret's roar, which meant that Finley was quickly up on her swollen paws to track him down with moodiness in tow. When she came upon him, she at first thought the creature snagged in the brush was something that she could kill and eat. Though that turned out to be true technically, her own morals would never have allowed it. So, she strode towards her nephew and plopped down on her haunches, rolling back slightly to make room for her belly.

"Do you want help or are you gonna get out on your own?" Finley asked, peering at him. Were it any of the other Firebirds, she would have simply untangled him. But Ferret had been of a different breed from day one, and she felt it better to give him the option to decline her offer, as she would have done in such a situation when she was his age.

How he managed to become ensnared in the brush was unknown to him, but here he was, with his coat being tugged in all directions, branches sticking into his face and prodding at him cruelly, and his limbs all tangled up. Grace, elegance, these were not words to describe his method, or anything about him. Prideful, however, was, and he pinned his ears and scowled when his aunt came upon him and remarked on his situation. How dare she see him like this.

Growling and snorting, there was a bush-shaking flurry as Ferret tore himself free of the clutches of the infernal plant. He shook himself off, then, and sat with his snout slightly lifted and his ears perked, the portrait of a nonchalant 'cool boy' who was not at all perturbed by what had just happened and was passing it off as no big deal (yet he burned inside).

"You got fat." He sniffed, staring judgmentally at her rounded flanks.

As she anticipated, Ferret gave a grumpy scowl and began to battle the bush on his own for freedom. She shuffled slightly as she watched, trying to find a way to get more comfortable even though it was was beyond her reach. Fin considered him quietly as he struggled, keeping her thoughts and suggestions silent from him. Clearly he was not pleased at having been found like this, but she certainly wasn't going to just up and leave him there until she saw that he was safe.

Fin gave a small nod of approval when he finally unsnagged himself from the shrubbery. There was something impudent about his manner when he moved out of its reach and turned to give her a look. The smile that flickered on her muzzle faded instantly, and her eyes narrowed as she caught the gaze that wandered across her very pregnant frame.

You got fat.

"And you're very small still," Fin replied matter-of-factly without missing a beat, quirking a single eyebrow at him, "Once I have these pups, I won't be so fat anymore. When are you planning on getting tall, hm?"

She probably should have been kinder, realizing he was acting out due to the fresh bruises upon his ego. She should be patient and try to talk to him about what was really bothering him. But Finley usually wasn't mature enough for that even on her best days. Besides, she had invented that non-chalant, way-too-cool-for-life attitude back when she was a teen, and it irked her hormonal brain to see him trying to use it on her.