Systematic re-homing

Riva frowned, her boy's voice sounded funny, and his assurance wasn’t very… assuring. His small cry of pain was enough to bring her down from the log where she had settled the beehive and her pack. She ran to him as he began to thrash at the bees, and she took the stick off him, tossing it to the ground, and grabbing him by his scruff. He was much, much bigger these days, and it was a great effort to drag him away from the bees, some dead, others crawling about in confusion.

Once they were a safe distance away, she let him go, and turned to him, paws spread on either side. If she had hips and hands, they would have been pressed together. . “I can make the pain go away for you stings, but I can not bring life back to the bees you’ve killed, Mr Asmodeus Abraxas-Nightingale! Now, you go over there and apologise to the bees, you do that, and I will make the pain go away.” she stared him down sternly. She was raising a boy, not a monster.