Redhawk Caldera Never be the same

Now that he could hear, Fidget felt like the world was some kind of crazy sensory overload experiment. Twilight had settled in, and with it came colder temperatures. Somewhere in the distance, Phox heard a sound that immediately got his attention. He didn't know it right then and there, but he was hearing his very first howl—likely made by one of the adults alerting the others about food or foes.

As soon as the last note died down, Phox attempted his own version of that ancient song, spurred by centuries (if not millennia) of instinctual behavior. The sound was high-pitched and squeaky, but he managed to get something out. The other pups were likely to join in as well, if they were awake enough to hear.

The howling wolf was none other than Raven. She had found Charlotte's broken, battered body just moments ago. Charlotte was beyond help, likely dead for hours before the Gamma came across her remains. The caregiver reeled for a moment or two before lifting her dark muzzle to the sky and announcing the death in a mournful crescendo.

There was no burying the body in these frigid conditions; she wouldn't even be able to break ground. The yearling issued a silent apology to the dearly departed and then hastened back to the cave, doing her best not to slip and fall on the treacherously icy terrain. When she arrived, she paused in the cavern's mouth to shake the icicles from her coat, then heaved a sigh as she made eye contact with @Elwood and @Finley.

The pups captured her attention then. They were stirring and even trying to howl. Wondering if her own sad song had prompted it, Raven walked over and flopped down beside the five youngsters, striking yellow eyes fixating on the youngest boy in particular.

Raven returned, and Phox paused his howling momentarily when she settled down beside him. Eager to show off his new talent to the fullest extent, Phox took a few steps toward her and bellowed squeaked out the loudest howl he could muster. He fell onto his rump when he did so, continuing to belt out the loudest, screeching wail. It slowly tapered off into more of a whine, and then he quieted again, tail wagging as he awaited the praise he would surely receive.

She reached down to chew the ice lodged between her toes, all the while keeping her ears perked to the pup's silly, screechy song. Raven glanced up intermittently to smile at his efforts. The others tried a little too, though none so emphatically as "Fidget." She did notice that one of the "twins" slept soundly through it all, though the Gamma didn't think anything of it.

When the would-be Phox quieted down and wagged his tail, clearly waiting for praise, Raven didn't leave him hanging. She stretched out a paw to "boop" his nose, yellow eyes dancing as she put her face close to his. "Good job!" she said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. She knew the pups' ears were open now—hence the howling—and speech would be soon to follow.

Phox flattened his ears and grinned from ear-to-ear when Raven praised him. The boy was eager to please, and thankfully his guardians were happy to do so. (The same might not have been said about his biological mother, but he would never know that unless somebody told him what a bitch she was.) Now that he'd received his praise, Fidget continued to bellow screech to his heart's content, right along with his other siblings.