“Xanatos, what do you have in your mouth?” Qui-Gon hopped into the field just in time to see his charge shiftily cradling something in his short, furry arms, back turned.

“Mmuffnng, Mssstaaa,” Xanatos mumbled. He craned his neck over his shoulder, giving Qui-Gon a reassuring nose-twitch. Unfortunately, the tiny sparrow he’d been clutching took the initiative to struggle anew, flapping its small wings in Xanatos’ face. His whiskers twitched as the bird escaped, flying the short distance to Qui-Gon.

“That’s two days of crate duty, Padawan,” Qui-Gon admonished, long gray ears twitching disapprovingly. “You know better than to eat Obi-Wan.”