Sun Mote Copse Hot chicken.

It was only the promise in Towhee's tone of something better that had Alyx relinquishing the wing when her second mom took it; her instinct was to hold on and wrestle it back. She was too eager for what came next to fight for it this time, even though her eyes locked on the feathers for a moment when Towhee set it between her paws. Something like a gentle vibration coursed through Alyx's frame until she was redirected to the pheasant's head.

With her target locked in her sights, Alyx pounced. It was a bit of an ordeal to get her jaws around the pheasant's head, but when she finally did, it was no match for her. Even a pup's jaw strength could shatter the fragile skull of a bird. She chomped down with all her might and felt the bird go still. Blood gushed into its beak and pattered on her tongue. She dropped it, licked her chops, and looked to Towhee for further instruction (or praise, if we're being realistic here).