Redtail Rise wetfish

The one who came to them, dark and silent on his feet, was named Prophet. Lilia’s father. Metis’s bellflower eyes did not leave him, watching him with the characteristic wariness of a child used to violent adults. She flicked her gaze from Lilia to the vixen, then back to Prophet.

I…didn’t know that. She gave a rolling shrug, trying to brush it off as best she could. She had killed youth before, young deer and eggs of birds. She’d brought food.

Life would go on without one mother fox.

Explains why she bit so hard. But she should be enough for a good meal. What she gives can be used to further our lives. Or something like that anyway. She was pretty sure she was quoting one of the old Myrmidons.