Redhawk Caldera WE GOT GAME

Fortunately, nothing terrible happened to Nightjar or Magpie... but Wildfire flinched when she heard Dove's yip and saw her bloodied aunt take off across the flat ground. She almost ran after her, yet she obediently remained where the adults had left her. Only when they felled the stag and Peregrine called out to them did she begin moving. Raven fell into step beside her, though her leggy sister soon outpaced her. Wildfire arrived near the kill a solid five seconds after the larger youth.

Dove was limping back toward the group. Though the smell of the mule deer's blood caused Wildfire's pupils to dilate and her mouth to water, she wriggled her nose in her aunt's direction. She brought a different but equally strong scent of blood with her. The wound on her shoulder was red and raw against her white fur. Wildfire's ears flicked when she picked up on the quiet whines hissing through Dove's clenched teeth.

"Can you help her?" Wildfire thought aloud, glancing at Raven, then over her shoulder to Magpie. Both of them at least dabbled in medicine. She then frowned as she looked back at the gruesome hole torn in the pale she-wolf's shoulder. It looked pretty bad.