The Floodlands chased it 'round to Tokyo

The water was lukewarm and tasted foul, having sat on the floodlands for who knows how long under the heat of the summer sun, but Lucca didn't mind. In fact, he wasn't really bothered by most things. Like his father, the boy was happy to take life as it came and not kick up too much of a fuss — his siblings more than made up for his lack of explosive reactions. So in typical fashion, when the Blackthorn got a face full of mud and stale water, he simply shook it off and swiped a foreleg across his muzzle.

A dark shape suddenly materialised in the corner of his eye as he wiped away the muck, and orange eyes turned to lock onto Quixote, their newest Alpha. He knew there had been some swapsies in the leadership of the Redhawks recently, but it all looked to be sorted now. He liked the idea of Raven as Alpha, and this Quixote guy seemed pretty cool too. They were a thing, right? Right. They did have some babies together after all.

With his front half still sodden, the boy turned to face the darker man, stumbling slightly on the soft earth, before offering a respectful dip of his head. "Hey, Qui—!" his voice strained slightly as he suddenly cut himself off. Wait, was that okay? Was he allowed to call him that? It wasn't disrespectful, was it? "I—I mean —ote...I mean Quixote." The stuttering was punctuated with a taut, sheepish grin.