Redhawk Caldera kenton talks dead hikers

For once, Towhee didn't spend the whole day curled in the back of the Hobbit Hole. Caracal knew it had something to do with a couple of their relatives recently showing up at the caldera. He wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He was just happy his mother seemed a little better.

It left him free to turn his attention elsewhere. Caracal decided he would go find @Killdeer today, come hell or high water. He would start by going to the den where he and Fennec lived. If they weren't there, he would track them down wherever they'd gone.

For all the empathy and maturity he'd demonstrated lately, it sure didn't stop him from shouting, "Hey, buttmunch! You home?" when he arrived, a huge grin on his face.

'SUP, CACKLE?!

The answering cry came in a holler, a boyish sound that was beginning to deepen with age. It still croaked a little, though, and would continue to do so— but it did not diminish the joy in Killdeer's voice as he emerged from a nearby thicket to accost his friend.

Where you go? he asked, nostrils flaring as he took in every iota of the older boy's scent. I look for you earlier. Not here.

Earlier, of course, being the other day. Lazy as he was, the days tended to blend together, so it didn't seem too long ago that Caracal had vanished on him.

His boyish grin grew when Killdeer shouted in reply, his tail breaking into a speedy wag as he turned toward the sound of his voice just in time to watch his friend come bursting out of some underbrush. He laughed easily when the younger pup bumped into him, sniffing and demanding to know of his activities.

"I was probably at the Hobbit Hole," Caracal answered absently, drawing away only to spin and try to put Killdeer in a headlock for an affectionate noogie. "Where've you been? You and Fen—your mom are never around when I come looking." With a playful snort, he let go. "I'm glad you're actually here for once, fartface. So, what've you been up to?"

Whatza Hobbie Ho? Killer questioned, tilting his head. At Caracal's query, he shrugged with a sigh. I dunno. Ma go errywhere. I go too.

He bore the noogie with a patient grin, and then wriggled away, pouncing on the boy in turn. Gotcha! he shouted, pressing the tawny nape as far down as he could. 

Hahaha, butttssss, he teased, ironically ripping a rancid toot just as he said so.

Although he had to snicker at Killdeer's pronunciation, Caracal decided that rather than answering his question, he would simply take his nephew there. If his mom was around by then, she would probably be even more cheered by her grandson's presence. It hadn't escaped his notice that Towhee babied the lil' guy even more than her own kids. Part of him was jealous, though mostly he understood. Killdeer was adorable.

His well-timed flatulence made the older boy wrinkle his nose, though he was as endeared as he was impressed. "Damn, son, what did you eat?" he joked, waving a reddish paw in front of his face. That was when the smell actually hit him. Caracal dry heaved and moved his paw to cover his nose. "Seriously," he said nasally, laughing.

Once he could breathe again, Caracal floated his idea, only of course he had to include some teasing. "The Hobbit Hole is where all the cool kids hang out. If you think you're cool enough, come with me." With a wink, he pivoted and began heading back in that direction.

Hehehehehe, Killdeer giggled, and then reeled back, gagging, as he found his own stench wafting up his nostrils. Commence a few moments of coughing, shaking his head, eyes streaming.

Then he was following Caracal very obediently, tail wagging. I'm coo'! he had exclaimed.

He hoped so, as they went along. He didn't know what he'd do if they got there and he wasn't cool enough, anyway. But why would Cackle be friends with him, then, anyway?

Are we there yet? he complained, hopefully near the place they were headed.

"I'm coo'!" little Killdeer insisted and Caracal couldn't resist replying, "If you say so, nerd." As always, his teasing was delivered with an impish look and an affectionate smile. He never meant any of it. It was his sworn duty to rib the younger male, though everyone knew they were the best of friends.

They hadn't walked more than a tenth of a mile when Killdeer demanded to know if they were there yet. Caracal snorted and looked over at his buddy. "Not even close," he assured, when a realization struck him. "Hey, are you okay to walk this far?" Never mind that neither one of them could really conceptualize what "this far" meant.

Glancing around and dropping his voice to a stage whisper, Caracal added, "Tell me if you get tired or scared or anything like that, okay? I won't tell anyone." All semblance of teasing was gone for the moment as he casually stepped into the role of protective big brother.

He let out his breath in a chuckle, a gasping sigh, as Caracal addressed him. N-no! he insisted, even though his muscles were beginning to cramp. No, just askin'. 

He was afraid Cackle would stop. And he didn't wanna stop.

Wanna see the Hobbie Ho, Killdeer said fervently, hopping in place. Hopefully that would seal the deal. 

It was okay. Killer would push himself to his limits for his friend. And his limits hadn't come yet. His tail wagged, eyes wide with anticipation. C'mon! he hollered, pedaling his forepaws.

You've probably already seen this but I wanted to link it, just in case. :)

"Okay," Caracal replied, "well, just tell me if you need a break or anything." He gently shoved at Killdeer's shoulder.

At his young pal's eager insistence, he let out a laugh and romped ahead. He maintained a leisurely pace as he led Killdeer to the place where he'd been born and grown up. He associated it strongly with his mother. He could smell her scent as they approached and peeped at Killdeer, wondering if he noticed.

"This is it," Caracal announced when they reached the foot of the slope in which the Hobbit Hole was embedded, for a lack of a better term. "Last one to the top of the hill is a rusty, infected butthole!" he crowed in the very next breath.

He darted upward, though secretly he plotted to slow down and let Killdeer overtake him. It would also let him fall back and make sure the tyke could make the climb. The slope was somewhat steep and from down here, the dogwood on top of Hobbit Hill (directly over the Hobbit Hole itself) looked dauntingly far away.

Oh helllll no. There was no way Caracal was going to question his longevity and challenge him to a race in the space of a few breaths. Killdeer's face screwed up with determination, and he rocketed past his friend, legs pumping hard and fast to propel him up the slope—

LORD, it was a steep slope. His lungs were burning halfway up, but he continued, even as his pace began to slacken and his breath began to come hort.

Almos'—there— he gasped, as if he were egging himself on, willing his body to make it the last gallop. Whether or not Cal overtook him, he didn't know. All he knew was the collapse atop the hill, panting, his vision blurred.

It felt great.

They made it to the hilltop, not without heaps of effort. Killdeer promptly collapsed so Caracal tumbled down beside him, grinning. He kicked out a leg to touch to his companion's side, feeling Killdeer's heartbeat echoing the hard pounding in his own chest.

"Guess this means I'm a diseased asshole," the red youngster quipped breathlessly, lolling bonelessly in the grass. "Don't forget to check out the views," he added, struggling to prop up on his elbow and point them out if Killdeer didn't know what he meant.

Assho', Killdeer gasped, and giggled, giving Caracal a reciprocal prod. Heh. Views? 

He lifted his head, and promptly saw. His jaw fell.

The world expanded beyond them; they were near the heights of the territory and he could see everything, from distant mountains to rolling plains to endless forests. He summoned his strength and found his footing, head on a swivel.

Whoa, he remarked, a little dizzy. So high! Uh. . .where's the Hobby Ho?

He'd almost forgotten their destination in the heady adventure that was their climb.

"Yeah, the views. Take a look around you, buddy," Caracal said with a slightly breathy laugh, slumping over even more while Killdeer did the opposite.

He pushed back onto an elbow when his friend questioned him about the Hobbit Hole. "It's right below us, like we're sitting on top of it right now," he answered. "Isn't that cool?"

Having caught his breath, he pushed into a sit, then stood. Caracal gave his slim body a little shake and asked, "Ready to go take a look?" Nudging Killdeer, he led the way down to the Hobbit Hole for the grand tour.