Redhawk Caldera you, you'll be blessed

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@Fox wouldn't show for another week or two but her scent had changed and Raven was 99.97% sure she was pregnant. Determined to make the pregnancy as healthy and comfortable as possible for her mother, the Gamma sought out the whelping den and left a little pile of gifts that included a rabbit skin, a mouthful of soft down feathers and a bouquet of plants that contained vitamins, minerals and other nutrients. One of them even helped boost milk production.

After dropping off these supplies, Raven decided to wander to her father's grave for a few minutes. While standing there, she looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then muttered under her breath, "I'll make sure your legacy lives on, dud." Feeling a little dorky and self-conscious despite the lack of an audience, she then shuffled away in the direction of the Blackthorn den, hoping to catch up with @Elwood, @Finley, @Eljay, @Liffey and/or @Lagan.

The bouncy boy trounced along a deer path near to the Blackthorn den, burning excess energy from his excessively large breakfast. Lagan was growing rapidly and his interests were expanding—he particularly liked the stories of his extended family—but he was still a young boy who loved to eat. His boundless energy would no doubt continue into his adulthood.

A sound made him pause in his frolicking, ears lifted, and then with a wide grin he popped back out in front of the den just in time to spot Raven approaching. Boisterous as ever, Lagan headed toward her with fluffy tail wagging and greeted her with an exuberant shout of, "hey, goddad!" because he almost kind of sort of didn't know the difference between godfather and godmother yet (or that Raven wasn't necessarily either of those yet).

The gray head that popped out of the den could have belonged to literally any of the five matching Blackthorns, yet the lanky build, green eyes and happy shout immediately identified Lagan. Despite the solemn nature of her immediately previous task, Raven smiled broadly at her "godson." She knew she should probably correct him but she found his error harmless and amusing, so she opted against it.

"How're you today, Lagan?" the Gamma queried, gliding closer and peeking beyond him just in case any of his family members decided to make an appearance as well. "You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," she remarked, already well aware that it was just the boy's nature.

"Good!" chirped the little Blackthorn, who rarely ever had a different answer to that question. He was perpetually good, and unaffected by the general solemnity of the rest of the pack. He missed Guncle Pee, of course, and he was well aware that things weren't really the same with him gone, but the permanence of death was still lost on him enough that he wasn't all that sad about it. Things were Eljay were kind of weird, but once again, Lagan was mostly incapable of taking it personally. Whatever made his older brother not want to play with him much anymore was his own business.

Raven's observation drew a giggle from Lagan as he flopped his rear end down to the ground. "I always look like this!" he explained, twisting his head around to gaze at said bushy tail fondly. It had once been thin and whip-like, but now it was as full and fluffy as Eljay's, and Lagan was quite proud of it indeed. "Silly goddad," he playfully admonished her, as if she could possibly think his eyes were ever not bright green and his tail was ever not bushy.

"True," she agreed with a low chuckle. "I enjoy your cheerfulness," she added genuinely. In a pack suffering with so much heartache and heartbreak, Lagan was like a breath of fresh air. Raven hoped it wasn't just his youth; she hoped this optimism persisted even as he grew older. Redhawk Caldera could most certainly use someone like him to help buoy the overall spirit of the pack.

"Hey, would you like to talk trades s'more?" she wondered. "I can tell you about mine or we can talk about the others. Whatever most interests you." Her yellow eyes fastened expectantly on his face as she wondered if anything in particular had struck Lagan's fancy yet.

"Thanks!" Lagan said brightly, then added, "but it's just how I am!" in an effort to discredit himself. He was born that way, he supposed. There'd never been a reason for him to be any different. Even when his mom left for a while, Lagan kept on being a perfectly bouncy baby boy, not because he didn't miss her when she was gone, but because he never doubted she would return. Like his twin and in sharp contrast to his older brother, Lagan had everlasting faith in Finley, and that had worked out well for him, because she had come back after all! He had many and more reasons to keep on smiling and being cheerful in spite of the pack's losses.

What he really wanted to do was roll down a hill or pounce on a bug, but Raven's offer to talk about trades seemed like serious business, so he nodded. "Dad says ma's family likes trees and animals and stuff," he shared, although he didn't think Elwood had ever told him much more on the subject than that. Perhaps he just didn't know anything else. Lagan made a mental note to ask Finley about her druid relatives later, but in the meantime, he asked, "is that a trade, too?"

Lagan mentioned his mother's family, citing their collective interest in the natural world. Raven immediately thought of Wildfire, who'd tried to become a naturalist at one point. Honestly, the Gamma couldn't really remember many details, just that her sister had occasionally expressed interest in her plants and herbs. Raven herself had a deep love for nature, though she supposed her focus was much narrower than the broader scope of naturalism.

"I'm actually not an expert," she disclaimed, "but I think so. It sounds like naturalism. There's a few different branches, like the study of animals or weather patterns, for example." Her tail waved idly. "I didn't know your mom's family dabbled in that stuff. You should definitely ask her more about it, though. I could tell you a bit about plants but I'm not a wildlife or weather expert or anything."

An idea struck her suddenly. "Hey, I've been collecting stuff just in case I can use any of it while practicing medicine. Would you like to help me out? Even the most random object might have a purpose. So it's sort of like an open-ended scavenger hunt..." She stopped there, licking her lips and looking at him expectantly again.

Lagan's ears flickered as he listened, but his attention started wandering when Raven brought up the weather. He had the best of intentions, but he just wasn't really interested in the weather. Animals, plants, and especially bugs were really cool, but the clouds and sun and stuff, he barely paid attention to. Sometimes it rained, and the ground became muddy, and that was when the best bugs came out. Sometimes the wind blew and the bugs hid away. That was about the extent of Lagan's interest in the weather.

He was much more taken with the idea of giving Raven a hand, since helping out was more his forte. "Sure!" he exuberantly chirped, dipping his front half into a ready position as his rump waved. "What about spider legs? Or fly wings? What about earth worms? What about shiny rocks?" He truly had no idea what might be useful to Raven in her medicinal work, and threw out a few of his favourite things as ideas.

Not only was Lagan game, he immediately threw several suggestions on the table. Raven laughed at his enthusiasm, especially his focus on insects. Her head tipped as she seriously considered each of these items. Did bugs have medicinal properties? She had no idea, actually. As for rocks, she could use them in a mortar and pestle sort of capacity, especially to grind bones and the like.

"I bet I could find a use for any of those things," she answered, "although I have to ask: how do you get the legs off spiders and the wings off flies without squishing them?" She threw the boy a teasing smile, then motioned for him to take the lead. "I'm not sure we'll find many bugs this time of year," she cautioned as they began to move, "but I'm sure we'll find tons of other stuff."

"Veeeery carefully," said Lagan with confidence, although he had never taken legs and wings off bugs before. They were way too small, and even if he tried, he was bound to fail. That was okay. Lagan liked to munch on bugs as much as she liked to find them and look at them, so if it ended up mushed up in his mouth, he was perfectly fine with that.

He chuckled at Raven's warning, then told her, "they're under rocks and bark and stuff." Some of the bugs went underground and others migrated away, none of which Lagan knew, but he could find beetles hiding even on the colder days. Soon enough they would disappear for good, but he also didn't know that. "I know where to find 'em, 'cause I like looking for them," he explained, waving his soft tail, "they're tasty."

He was so busy thinking about bugs that he forgot what they were really doing, and paused in his step as if to silently ask for directions.

Raven's face scrunched a little bit when Lagan revealed his taste for insects. But it cleared quickly. She didn't want to judge him, especially not when they were actually a great alternative source of protein. She just couldn't imagine eating them herself. There were too many wings and legs involved; she could just imagine them getting stuck in her throat. Actually, the mere idea made her nearly gag, though she masked it with a genuine chuckle.

"Do you have a favorite kind of bug to eat?" she couldn't help but humor him. In response to his silent request for direction, she just as mutely gestured at a nearby thicket where there was plenty of underbrush to sift through. "Like when you say tasty, what exactly did you have in mind?" she questioned even as she began to nose around in the leaf litter.

"Centipede!" Lagan answered immediately. Almost every kind of bug was crunchy, but not the humble centipede. Sure, it had an exoskeleton like other insects, but it went down like a noodle, with thousands of tinier noodles all along its body. Some of his other favourites were caterpillars and earthworms, but neither of them provided that strange, almost-furry-but-not sensation that the centipede did. They all tasted about the same, though, a kind of mix between sour and dirt.

"It just feels so funny," he elaborated as he thrust his head into the bare bushes and rooted around for something interesting. The only thing he could find was a cracked acorn, which he procured with surprisingly gentle teeth and held up for Raven's inspection.

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't centipedes. Raven blanched at the mere thought of trying to eat one. "Don't those things bite?" she questioned, giving Lagan an inquisitive glance. Maybe that's what he meant when he said it felt funny. Despite herself, a little shudder traveled down the back of her neck and along her spine. "I'll take your word for it," she concluded, as she would never voluntarily swallow something like that.

She forgot all about insects when Lagan presented her with a broken acorn a moment later. "That's an acorn, the nut of an oak," Raven told him, though he probably knew that much already. "If you soak them in water, it releases a chemical that turns it—the water, I mean—into an astringent that can be applied to cuts or burns. Or," she continued, her tone becoming almost robotic as she pulled facts out of her memory bank, "acorns can be eaten to help regulate the bowels. They're also generally healthy for your heart, bones and insides in general.

In other words," she concluded with a smile, "good find, Lagan. In fact, you should find some more, if you can. They'd make a great addition to my stores."

Source!

"I dunno," he replied smoothly around the acorn, having yet to be chomped by a centipede. Maybe it had something to do with him crunching it dead before it ever had the opportunity. Or maybe his tongue and lips were just a little bit numb. Who knew? Raven was going to take his word on it and Lagan thought that was a fine idea, because he took his word on it, too. Until a centipede bit him, he would keep on thinking they were the coolest bugs out there.

As he bent his head to drop the nut at his paws, Raven began to list off a whole lot of words he didn't know, and he turned quizzical eyes on her as she explained the properties of acorns. He glanced down at the nut and thought, it's just an acorn, mostly because he simply couldn't fathom using it for anything. He didn't understand his body any more than he understood how a tree produced sap, so much of what Raven said went over his head.

Still, because Lagan was a curious boy, as he stuck his head back into the brush to search for more acorns, he asked, "how do you even know all that?"

Raven chortled at his question, feeling a slightly self-conscious flush in her cheeks. She was thankful that her black fur hid it even as she replied, "Well, I'm a bit of an autodidact, meaning that I've taught myself a lot of things over the years. I learn through studying, observing and experimenting. But I also..." She paused and chuckled at herself again, head slowly shaking in a mildly embarrassed way. "I spent a lot of time wandering after I got lost, before I found my way back here. And because I was so alone, I started talking to some of the other woodland creatures. It could be difficult to communicate with them, sometimes even impossible, but...

I met this old fox. He didn't look like a regular fox at all; he was black and white rather than orange. He called himself Joker. Accordingly, he was really sarcastic all the time but it turned out he knew a lot about something he called herbalism. Anyway, I spent a few weeks with him and he taught me so much, including everything I just told you about acorns," Raven finished, looking at Lagan almost guardedly. She didn't know why she felt so odd, admitting to her fraternization with other species, just as she had no idea how her pack mates would respond to it. She was about to find out, though.

Raven's story was even more confusing than all the stuff she said about acorns, but Lagan listened and nodded along even if he was kind of confused. Since when could other animals talk? He decided then and there he would have to find himself a talking animal to pal around with, because that seemed pretty cool. He wasn't in the least bit weirded out by Raven talking to animals, even if he was a little bit doubtful that they actually talked back. Maybe she was kind of crazy. He didn't mind, of course, because if he could be crazy and have a talking animal friend, he would, and he was just young enough still that he didn't question it too much.

What he did question was what he said next: "but how does he know all that? What even is an as... astringent?" That word made no sense to him. He'd never heard it before Raven said it, and he was just baffled how anyone could think to stick an acorn in water and then use it on a cut when they could just lick the cut. Lagan licked all his cuts, and he often had many, and that seemed to work okay for him. He, as it turned out, was not a very good candidate for medicine. He was imaginative enough, but simple-mindedly practical, too. "And what's a bowel?"

Lagan's reaction—or lack thereof—gave Raven hope that she wouldn't be judged too harshly or labeled as some sort of weirdo for mingling with non-wolves. Truth be told, she had done a lot of it during her time away. She had been so isolated without her family, she had sought the only kind of company she could find. And when it had come to those beasts who couldn't understand her, it hadn't entirely stopped Raven from talking to them anyway, though she probably wouldn't mention that to anyone.

"I'm not sure," the Gamma admitted, though it was a question worth pondering. Where had Joker come across all his knowledge? She had been so thirsty for it and for company, she hadn't stopped to question it at the time. "But everything he's ever told me has proved to be true, so far, so there's that." She paused, pondering for a moment, then remembered her cousin's other question and explained, "An astringent is just a fancy way of saying it's a substance to help clean and heal wounds."

While they conversed, Raven scanned the ground, noting an abundance of acorns. It wouldn't be hard to find them but transporting them was a separate issue altogether. Even as she tried to think of a method, Lagan's next question effectively sidetracked her. She blinked and glanced at his face, gauging his expression before deciding he meant it as a serious question. Although it was tempting to smile, maybe even laugh, she maintained her composure like she figured any professional medic would when covering possibly sensitive topics.

"Your bowels are the final part of your digestive system. That's where feces—or poop—comes from," Raven said with a straight face.

Hm. Lagan had a little of his father's sensibilities in him and found it very unsatisfying that there was no conclusive explanation for where all that knowledge came from originally, but he supposed that was just the way it was. He was still so young, and questions of that nature plagued him often. It was as pointless to wonder about as a human wondering who ever decided that drinking cow's milk was a good idea, or who ever figured out how to bake cookies. It was unfathomable. So he let it drop and returned his attention to the ground, which, he now noticed, was littered with cracked and dried acorns.

But like Raven, Lagan wasn't sure of a good way to bring them anywhere, so he simply turned them over with his nose until the healer drew his attention back with her explanation. Automatically, the silver youth made a face. He was a boy and he was interested in gross things in general, but that was one thing he wasn't really interested in. On the tip of his tongue was the next insufferable rendition of "but how do you know that", but for some reason, he didn't ask it. He probably sensed that there was another inconclusive answer. Instead, he said, "that's gross," and then tacked on the completely unrelated, "how many of these do you need?" with a sway of his tail.

"It is," she agreed sagely before their collective attention thankfully returned to the acorns. "As many as we can. I'm not sure how else we can transport them other than to do what the squirrels and chipmunks do." Raven paused and eyed Lagan warily, wondering if this was a wise idea considering the choking hazard. Well, if he did inhale one of the tree nuts, she was pretty confident she could dislodge it. "Stuff as many in your mouth as you can, then follow me," were her final instructions, her yellow eyes twinkling a bit before she promptly dropped her snout and began vacuuming acorns into her own mouth.

Admittedly, considering who he was and his clumsiness, this was a pretty bad idea. His chances of tripping and swallowing or inhaling an acorn were probably around 66%. Nevertheless, Lagan took to it immediately and began scooping acorns into his mouth, but he could only fit two. He almost got a third, but one always kept sliding out of his mouth that way, so he opted for two acorns and began to follow Raven as she led the way, somehow managing to keep his feet the entire way, courtesy of his legs fleshing out some.

Cheeks comically stuffed with acorns, Raven trotted in the direction of the badger den. She continuously glanced backward to make sure Lagan was still behind her and not choking or swallowing the little tree nuts. They managed to reach their destination without incident (although she did come close to accidentally swallowing one herself), at which point the yearling promptly opened her mouth and spat the bundle of acorns onto the ground. When a rope of drool accompanied them, she swiped it away with a small black paw.

She turned to monitor as Lagan presumably did the same, her tail slowly waving. "Thanks for being my assistant," Raven said, simultaneously expressing her gratitude and letting him know he was off the hook if he would rather go do something else now. Youths sometimes had short attention spans, she knew. Whether or not he stuck around to help, she turned to focus on adding the saliva-damp acorns into her cache.