Summary: Jake learns an important lesson.
Jake stared curiously at the tiny, chirping bird on the ground. The critter didn't seem to have noticed him yet as it moved, dragging its right wing. "What's wrong with it, daddy?"
Striker kneeled down next to his son, gaze locked on the tiny bird. Judging by its lack of plumage and small size, it's probably a few days old. Looking up, he spotted a bird nest a few meters above in the tree branches.
"Looks like it fell from its nest and broke its wing," he sighed. "It's sad, but it happens sometimes.
"Why?"
"It's just the way of nature, my boy. Only the strongest survive, just like in Hell only the strongest demons survive. The best thing to do is to end its sufferin'."
"Daddy, no!" Jake protested as he saw his father pulling out his knife. "What if it hurts?"
"It won't, my boy. I promise.
Striker took a deep breath as he gingerly stretched the fledgling's neck and made a quick slice in its main vein. The pained, distressed chirps became silent as the chick went limp. Jake sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, prompting Striker to pull him into an embrace.
"Shh, it's okay, my boy. The chick ain't sufferin' anymore," he assured the impling as he picked him up, cradling him in his arms.
"Will it go to Heaven?"
Striker hesitated. "...Yeah, it'll probably spend eternity singin' in the bird chorus or somethin' like that." he smiled a bit, wiping Jake's tears. "Let's go back home, my boy. I'll make yer favorite dish for dinner."