Redhawk Caldera Drive-thru

If only the little bandit's ears were open to the world, he might have made his father regret the words his tongue made. But alas, he could hear nothing significant. He perceived sounds as an inexplicable resonance, a sort of dull twang and hum of things that perhaps could be likened to what was heard through ear plugs. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing worth his attention.

He continued to mouth the foot, until his father scooped him up again. Code name Troublepaws made an indignant squawk, and soon found himself grounded, literally, but this time he was back within the confines of the den. He huffed, swinging his muzzle around (sort of, he was terribly inflexible as a potato) in what maybe could be called a snap as Peregrine nudged him. But as if sensing that there was no fighting the command of this bigger being, he crawled forward further into the den. Except he crawled slowly. So, so, soooo slowly.