Hushed Willows “I Get Around” — The Beach Boys

Finley couldn’t help but think of his ill-fated attempt to hunt birds’ eggs with Jawahir. And, ironically, his bounding through the grass flushed out some hidden fowl. Pheasant? he thought absently, ignoring the birds as they took wing.

His focus remained on critters a little closer to the ground. He dropped his snout and began sifting through the sedge’s roots, hoping to strike the trail of a hare or maybe a gopher. He licked his lips.

They parted when he burst through a particularly thick growth of overgrown turf and found himself peering down at a nest full of fuzzy little chicks, downy yellow with black splotches that could almost be called stripes. They began peeping as soon as he appeared, some of them scrambling up and over the confines of their nest.

He reacted instinctively, snapping his jaws back and forth, grabbing and swallowing pheasant chicks like they were popcorn chicken or something. There were so many of them and he ate every last one… except, well, one.

He snatched up the last chick, holding its head in his teeth as he turned around and ran back toward the edge of the field. Hey, Paw! Finley tried calling out to his companion.