Redhawk Caldera Two large gulps of free-range oxygen

Peregrine pretended to be offended by Osprey's joking by clutching a broad paw to his chest and thrusting his lower lip out in a pout. Funnily enough, her words actually had the opposite effect. He was so busying having kids that he had never given much thought to grandkids. All of a sudden, he could hardly wait to have some of those. He felt a momentary sadness that he would be unlikely to meet any offspring produced by Junior or Saena. He could not picture Pura settling down and reproducing, either. Tytonidae might be his only hope and she was in some faraway, unknown place...

Still, he glommed onto the idea in general. If the brood currently floating in Fox's womb juice had litters of their own exactly two years from now, the timing would be perfect: that's when he would actually be old. Hell, he might be totally white by then! He would be honored to hold the title of "Old Pa" or any other variation. As much as he was looking forward to his own offspring, here was a whole other dream and a long-term one at that.

But back to the topic at hand: "Running? After dragons, specifically," Peregrine amended, eyes glowing.