Redhawk Caldera there'll be peace when you are done.

@Nightjar :D

Fin nudged the bedding she'd collected around the soon-to-be whelping den. Her movements were slow and half-hearted as her mind was far from focused on her task. It was off with Eljay, wherever he was in this huge world of theirs. Her heart ached from the thought of how terrified he must be on his own for the first time. Where would he go? What would he do? As much as Finley and Elwood had tried to prepare him for life as an adult, none of their lessons had ever seemed to stick. How would he survive on his own? Was he even alive now?

The Blackthorn gave her head a hard shake, rejecting the thought. Of course he was alive still. Though the thought was completely unfounded, Fin felt certain that she would know somehow if something happened to Eljay. It was impossible, of course, but she believed it anyway for the comfort it provided. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back out of the den and gave the site an appraising look.

"Good enough..." Fin murmured to herself, glancing down at her bulging sides, "Don't you think?" Someone inside gave a light kick in agreement, which brought a soft smile to Fin's lips.

For each familiar old smell that Nightjar came across, there was a new one, as well. Redhawk Caldera had seemingly been inundated with a plethora of unfamiliar wolves in his absence. That wasn't entirely surprising at face value. He'd been gone for over a year, not that he was counting. Still, he thought it rather unusual. Peregrine and Fox had never been really open to outsiders in their home, and their first surviving son had inherited that mistrust as well but to a lesser degree. The scents he didn't recognise rivalled the scents of his family in number and he had to wonder what other changes the Blackthorns had affected in their rule.

He put those unfamiliar aromas aside for today, however, and followed a much more familiar scent trail in search of someone dear to him. It was laced with poignant hints of pregnancy, a smell Nightjar had come to know while he was away, and it made his tail beat at his hocks as he traced her earlier path. He wondered if her progeny this year would be riddled with issues as well. Unlike Fox, Nightjar had no designs on attempting to claim the Blackthorn matriarch as his own come spring because her first offspring had been so weak. Her womb, he privately thought, was unworthy of Redhawks. Elwood could keep her as long as he liked, he would find no challenger in Nightjar, only a willing participant in the cubs' growth.

(Another of his private thoughts as he closed in on her den site was that if he was more involved this time around with her cubs, if he was a better godbrother or whatever it was, he could chase the weakness from her brood before it had time to manifest into another Eljay. Speaking of which, where was that nerd...?)

In spite of his wilder instinctual opinion of Finley and her value as a breeding female, however, he still loved her deeply as his aunt and had utmost respect for her as his Alpha female. When he came upon her inspecting her den site, his face broke into a warm smile and he called out a gruff, "Aunt Flea!" while his tail wagged and his ears pressed back.

There was a great deal of temptation in that moment to allow her mind to wander off in directions she didn't wish it to go. She considered getting back to work preparing the den in an effort to prevent that, but couldn't seem to find the motivation for it. Besides, she was essentially done. This would be her third litter and so she was way beyond the anxiety of a first-time mother. With Eljay, she had nested endlessly and not once did it seem even remotely good enough. This time around, she was confident that she could drop them on the cold hard floor and they'd just bounce into place at her tits. Third-time mom knew that puppies were far more resilient than they seemed, so getting the exactly right placement for the exactly perfect amount of bedding really didn't seem at all necessary.

Nevertheless, it seemed there was nothing else to do and so she was about to turn and headd off to find more bedding when she heard her name being called. Or at least, it was a version of her name - one she hadn't heard in quite a while. Only two of the original firebirds had ever really taken to calling her Aunt Flea, and she had only heard of one of those two recently joining their ranks. A huge smile broke across her melancholy expression as she turned to see Nightjar approaching.

Fin bit her lips, grinning as she looked upon him, her tail wagging at a pace of about 30 wages per second. All at once, however, her viasge shifted into stern alpha as she tilted her head and frowned. "Nightjar," she scolded even as mirth glinted in her deep brown eyes, "A real ninja would never announce his presence so flippantly, even to a loved one. I thought I trained you better." She lifted her chin slightly, stifling the grin that threatened to ruin her facade.

The boy's smile broke into a sheepish grin when Finley turned around and admonished him, albeit with a barely composed face. He barely even remembered that nickname. He was occasionally called NJ, but mostly he was just Nightjar. The only wolf to ever call him otherwise was the greyscale woman right in front of him, and it brought him back to when he was a boy fixing for a fight. He'd promised himself back then he would beat her one day. He wondered if that was still an impossibility.

Giving his head a little shake, he beamed and said, "didn'tcha hear? Ninjas are out, being a pirate is all the rage now! Y'arr!" He would always be her little ninja, though, at least in name. The rest of him was ill-suited to the definition of a ninja. He was big and bulky and walked far too heavily to go unheard. Stealth would never be his forte. But she'd branded him a ninja from day one, and part of him wanted to live up to it. Maybe someday.

He reached forward to offer a wet kiss of his tongue to her cheek, if Stern Alphaface would permit it, and matched the tempo of her tail with his own. His gut wobbled a little more than hers; after all, hers was full of children, and his was just full of pudge. "How are you, Aunt Flea?"

Fin's facade broke as her nephew responded. She grinned brightly at his comment, laughing aloud when he attempted to make pirate sounds (or however one would explain that y'arr thing). "Well shit, I must be getting old if I'm not even hip to the latest trends," she replied as he stepped forward to greet her. She returned the gesture with a kiss to his cheek, then shifted her muzzle to sniff at his face, landing finally at his nose which was delivered a lick before she stepped back again to take an assessing look at him.

"I'm alright," she replied, "Been gaining all kinds of weight lately for some reason, but it's all good. What brings you back to our neck of the woods? Not that I'm complaining." Fin was thrilled to see her boy again. As much as she loved all of Peregrine's and Fox's kids, the original Firebirds would always hold a special place in her heart.

His grin persisted, though he didn't respond to Finley's quip. He didn't know the proper response to it. He might have told her that she was getting ancient, or he might have said she was young and spry as a spring chicken. Neither of these things crossed his mind. For all he had grown and matured and for all that his father's easygoing nature had manifested in him of late, Nightjar was still the dullest crayon in the box that was his litter. It would always be that way.

"You're pregnant," he told her plainly, after sniffing the air gingerly when she came close. Did she really not know? That joke sailed directly over his head. "Mom smelled the same before she had more kids," he pointed out. Maybe Aunt Flea just didn't remember that. Maybe women just couldn't smell other women or something. Nightjar had been able to smell it back then but hadn't cared as much. Now, the smell made something ugly and jealous rear in his breast, even if he wouldn't have considered Finley a candidate for his own future conquest.

But it also made something proud and familial rise, and that was the stronger feeling. "Do you think they will be strong?" he asked, thinking of Elwood Junior with disdain and hoping that that was just an unfortunate accident. He wanted to be involved this time, and he would be, but wasn't sure he could abide another sorry sack of puppy like that. If nothing else he supposed he could simply beat it out of them.

Fin quirked a brow as Nightjar explained to her that she was gaining weight because she was pregnant. She'd forgotten about this bit of his personality that had always mystified her. Actually, the fact that none of Peregrine's children had inherited his delightfully filthy sense of humor had always surprised and saddened her. She suspected the closest she was going to get would be Towhee, and suddenly she realized why it was that the youngest of the firebirds felt the most like a friend rather than a daughter. How funny...

What was happening? Her opportunity to explain her joke had passed, but Finley let it go without concern. She didn't care much of Nightjar thought she was an idiot. She didn't particularly care what anyone thought of her, really. She did, however, care about her kids, and so she answered him with a thoughtful glance to her stomach and a smile, "They feel strong; They're always moving around in there. I'm pretty sure they'll come out wrestling with each other. My last litter was the same and all three were champions." She realized with a pang that she couldn't say the same for her first litter, but the fact that Eljay had made it into the world alive had been a miracle. With another pang, she realized she couldn't confirm that all three of her second litter were champions still, though she had faith that Lucy was out there somewhere, kicking ass just like her littermates.

They feel strong. He supposed that was good enough. Should he ever have children of his own, he would be relentless in ensuring they were worthy of being Redleaf-DiSarinnos. He'd been named a Redhawk long ago, but Nightjar never forgot that that name was only a mark of being a devoted pack member. His familial name had its own importance. He'd heard the stories of his extended family, of course, of his paternal grandmother and how she had made her own way and her own family. She had earned her name, as had every Redleaf-DiSarinno since, as far as he knew. His future children would earn it, too, or they would not live.

Killing Finley's children if they turned out like Elwood Junior wasn't an option, however, but then, the Blackthorns were not Redleaf-DiSarinnos. It truly wasn't any of his business, though he knew he would refuse to teach and train one that was a snivelling wreck like the first. "Three?" He hadn't met any of them thus far. He hadn't known of any new children. After the walking mistake that was Eljay, he was surprised she would even bother to try again. He certainly wouldn't have bred again if he produced such a disappointment, but Finley and Elwood were made of softer stuff than Nightjar was.

Lucky for everyone, truly, because Nightjar had a one-track mind that emphasized survival of the fittest. He cared deeply for his family and was a sweetheart when it came to them, most of the time, but he had little tolerance for weak wolves. It showed in his disdain for Eljay. He could only hope Finley was right about her newest batch of pups so he would have someone to teach without feeling they would be better off dead.

If only Fin had had any idea the thoughts that were going through Nightjar's head. She had never been able to read him the way she did Wildfire. She hadn't initially been so close to Raven either, but they had bonded greatly over raising Firebirds 3.0 together. She felt closer to her first godson than she had to Raven in the beginning, and so it would have been quite the shock to find out that his friendly expressions masked thoughts towards her future brood that bordered on murderous, though she would have been more astounded to find out he didn't think her good breeding stock.

But as I said, Finley was happily oblivious, and she answered his query as such. "Yeah, I had three last Summer," she confirmed with a smile that became slightly strained, "Lagan is the Caldera's Gamma. I have two daughters as well. Liffey - Lagan's twin - left us not too long ago to follow a pack that I believe is somewhere to the East of here. Lucy, my third, was taken from us when she was very young." Fin didn't intend on expanding on the circumstances surrounding Lucy's absence. Likely, Nightjar would think Lucy had died. Fin didn't mind the inaccuracy, so long as she didn't have to discuss it further.

Three. There were three more Blackthorns that Nightjar hadn't even been aware of, and only one of them remained to boast of it. Their names were strange and slippery on the tongue but for Lucy's, but she was inconsequential. From the sounds of it, Lucy was six feet under. No doubt she had been the weakest of the litter; probably even weaker than Eljay if she had died so young. Eljay was a wuss, but he had at least survived. He thought that Lucy being gone was probably for the best.

As for the other two, one was the pack's Gamma and one was a traitor. Nightjar hadn't met Lagan yet, but made a mental note to seek the Gamma out in the future and get a measure of his worth. He didn't bother committing the other one's name to memory; she hadn't been loyal to Redhawk Caldera. Then again, neither had Wildfire, but he was more forgiving of his sister even though the crimes were the same. He dismissed the thought.

"Lagan is strong?" he wondered next, having concluded that he must be, to hold the Gamma spot. One out of four of Finley's offspring had amounted to something worthy of Nightjar's recognition: a strong, healthy wolf, loyal to the Caldera and its leaders above all others. It only confirmed Nightjar's innermost thoughts; Finley and Elwood were excellent wolves and had his utmost loyalty, but their children were another matter. After all, at least six of eleven surviving Redleaf-DiSarinnos had remained loyal to their pack, following no other leaders. (He didn't know, of course, that Raven briefly took up with another pack or that Gannet left at all). The newest Blackthorns didn't have big shoes to fill to live up to their family name based on their siblings before them, thought Nightjar, but he had very high expectations for them if they were ever going to prove themselves worthy of the pack name.

He hoped they would.

Wanna fade? :)  

Finley nodded to Nightjar's question - the only answer she really gave. Her son's ascension to the gamma rank had not really been one motivated by strength of any physical sort. Lagan was loyal, well-liked and dependable. He had a longer, uninterrupted tenure with the pack than any other currently in their ranks besides Raven, who had no aspirations for leadership anyway. His status came to him much in the way that Fin's had - they hadn't had to fight for respect; they had simply had it. To Fin, Lagan was strong because he was alive and talented. She'd never even considered how he would hold up in a fight.

It was probably one of many, many mistakes that would be shuffled into the laundry list of them without Fin's awareness. She gave her coat a brief shake as someone inside began bitching about the lack of hydration, and Fin looked to Nightjar and asked, "Hey, how about we wander toward the lake for a drink and you tell me about your adventures?"

A nod was the only confirmation he got, but for a wolf of comparatively few words, Nightjar was fine with that. He would seek out this Lagan himself eventually and come to know the sort of strength the Blackthorn possessed. Physical strength was not the only sort—even he wasn't that stupid—but given how Eljay was, he had a hard time believing Finley. In spite of his utmost respect for the pair, whom he had never had cause to question, he still couldn't believe that any wolf who came from Finley and Elwood's whelping den were worth their salt, and he needed to see it for himself before he would offer his respect to one of their offspring. In spite of his harsh judgments, Nightjar truly did hope she was right about her second son.

"Sure," he agreed, falling into line with the Alpha female. So brief and focused was his account of his time away—a rather boring and lonesome affair littered with skirmishes and theft, if we're being honest—that by the time they reached the lake, he had already finished his telling of it.