Bearclaw Valley deep in earth

baby child, girl-child, milk-toothed and chubby no longer. she was a killer now, merrick thought with a giddy rush, a killer of small things, a hunter of weaker beings. raised in the image of her father and her mother. 
blood pulsing along small chest and throat, perhaps chin and forelegs, bathing, bathing.
"it's a nice feeling," the man remarked, settling to watch over her as she began to eat. his eyes swept the surrounding land; satisfied there were no threats to the redbird, he lay down nearby, lapping the taste of gopher out of his mouth.