Redhawk Caldera cus in my castle i'm the freakin man.

Phox wagged his tail and flattened his ears upon Finley's greeting, always happy to receive affection from one of his (many) guardians. He perked his ears at hunting a fox. He was, of course, named after such an animal, but he knew that he wasn't actually a fox. Unlike his mother, he had no qualms hunting and killing the very creature that was his namesake. Perhaps that was because he didn't look like a majority of the foxes he had seen running around.

-Of course I can!- Phox boasted, as if he actually could. He did fancy himself a good hunter, and he was trying to prove to the rest of the pack that he was the best at hunting small game, and this would be a great way to show Finley that he really was the best. If this little vulpe had managed to escape her on more than one occasion, perhaps him bringing it to her would make a good impression.

Already, he had begun to sniff around, trying to find the exact scent and where it had gone off to.