Redhawk Caldera Don't call it a comeback

@Peregrine maybe?

Though he was still foggy on the difference between a Warden and a Warrior, following the pack meeting, Nightjar vowed to become both. Unbeknownst to him, his bulk, early training and his interests made him a poster child for both trades. Required or not, Nightjar suited them perfectly, and they, him.

Warrior was more his style, since he was basically designed for offense and loved sparring, but it was Warden training he was doing today. He didn't know a whole lot about the trade's details, but had a hazy recollection of Peregrine teaching him about marking his territory. He knew it was what Wardens did, so he was making his rounds of the rendezvous site, squatting every few feet to spray a tree. He barely had enough in the tank to make it halfway around before he would run out of urine with how heavily he was marking each spot, but he was getting better at it at least.

Exhaustion plagued him. Peregrine chalked it up to his depressive state. Little did he know, he had gone sleepwalking every single night for the past several nights, meandering around the caldera in a zombie-like state (and spooking the natives). He recollected nothing of his nocturnal forays. He just knew he felt constantly tired, his muscles fatigued and his paws achy.

After performing a morning patrol, he returned to the rendezvous site for a nap. When he got there, he spotted Nightjar marking the boundaries. The Kappa stopped, tail wagging as he regarded the growing pup. "Want any help?" he offered when it seemed his son had started running out of juice, a tired smile curving across his faded face.

As he felt the last drops leaving his bladder, Nightjar scrunched his face and squeezed harder, but to no avail. All he produced was a squeaky fart, which he giggled wildly at. His marking was officially over for now, it seemed, but luckily he was about to get some help in the form of Peregrine.

He was half-turned toward his father when the Alpha male (for that's what he still was to Nightjar) asked if he wanted help. Wiggling his tail enthusiastically, the young aspiring Warden approached his role model eagerly and lapped at his chin in greeting. He then stepped back, practically vibrating on the spot and excitedly said, "yeah! I can't do anymore."

When Nightjar greeted him exuberantly, Peregrine couldn't help but contrast his son's behavior against his younger daughter's. Raven seemed to fear him, whereas his boy's behavior bordered on hero worship. Each of their behaviors stemmed from the same incident too. Peregrine couldn't help but draw comfort and pleasure from Nightjar's attitude, naturally. He continually reminded himself to put a positive spin on all of this, to harness the youngster's enthusiasm and turn him into the caldera's most fearsome fighter yet.

"Good thing I drank like a camel this morning; I'm absolutely full of whiz," he mused, nudging his son and nibbling affectionately at the bridge of his muzzle. "But I actually forget the best way to mark," he continued. He wondered if Nightjar was too young to spot his fib or if his three-month-old son would call him out on the white lie. "Can you show me, little Warden?"

Nightjar was, in fact, still a little too young to realize that adults lied at all. As unlikely as it seemed to any logical adult, Peregrine's lie made perfect sense to Nightjar, who forgot things easily as well. He wasn't able yet to distinguish what he knew because of instinct and what he knew because of knowledge, and so he was unable to tell that marking was an instinctual behaviour that no wolf could ever forget how to do.

"Yeah!" chirped the little Warden-wannabe, who ran over to the nearest unmarked tree. "Y'gotta sniff it," he instructed, lowering his nose to inhale deeply at the bark, "an' then if it doesn't smell like pee then you gotta stand by it." He turned his body sidelong so that he was facing Peregrine with his side near the trunk. "An' then you gotta lift your leg!" He did so, balancing his "knee" precariously on the tree, since his balance still wasn't impeccable, "and then you gotta peeeeee all over it!" 

He scrunched up his face and tried his hardest to pee, but nothing came out except a single drop of urine. He wasn't at all bashful about this when he placed his foot down and trotted back toward his father. Rather, he was overwhelmingly eager to see if Peregrine did it the same way as him or not, minus the lack of urine.

Oblivious to his father's fib, Nightjar eagerly began to instruct Peregrine on how to properly mark. The father paid close attention, which was one hundred percent authentic. Of course, he knew all this but he wanted to see how well his son understood the process too. As it turned out, he was quite knowledgeable on the subject. Peregrine felt a flood of pride when the pup knew to mention even the minor details, such as the difference in procedure if the tree had already been marked.

"Don't push too hard or you might poop yourself," the tired father teased affectionately, stepping up beside his son. "Here, let me try. Let me know if I'm doing this right, okay? First, I sniff..." He stretched out his neck, inhaling near the tree's base. "Just a drop or two here," he quipped with a wink, "so I'll add onto it. I hike my leg up like this..." With years of practice, Peregrine deftly positioned himself. "And then..." He trailed off, letting the sound of his urine spraying the tree finish his sentence for him.

He went for several seconds before stopping the flow manually and resting his paw back on the ground. "One of the keys here is moderation. You know how to count to three, right? Every time you go to pee, count to three and then stop. That way, you won't run out as fast. But if you do run out," he continued, about to tell his son that a long drink would quickly help when he decided to frame a question out of it instead. "What do you do then?" he prompted. There were actually several ways to interpret and answer this question and he was curious to see how Nightjar would reply.

Nightjar giggled wildly at the mention of poop, one of the only jokes he actually understood at his age, but quieted quickly enough when Peregrine stepped up to have his go at marking. His son watched expectantly, hoping he hadn't missed anything important. His father copied his instructions flawlessly, though he didn't have to lean against the tree to hold himself up like Nightjar still did. The boy would have to practice that.

He smiled when Peregrine urinated perfectly on the tree. His ears perked up when the Alpha male began to speak, expecting praise, but instead he got some advice. That was just as good to the aspiring young Warden. Unlike with fighting, where Nightjar would always employ the same headlong tactic, guarding could be taught to him and molded.

Though he didn't really know the answer Peregrine was looking for, he suspected it wasn't pooping on the tree. So instead, he took a random guess and said, "rub your face on it!"

The boy provided a prompt and clever answer, earning a beaming smile from his father. "That's a great suggestion! You're really good at this Warden stuff, NJ, you know that? You're a natural." He reached out a broad paw to ruffle the fur atop the pup's head. "You can actually rub any part of your body against the tree to leave your scent—even your butt," he added, then demonstrated by moving on to another tree, backing up against it and rubbing it on the trunk. "Feels nice too."

Once he finished that, Peregrine said, "If you want to keep peeing on things and you run out, you can also take a long drink. The more water you take in, the more pee you let out." His head tilted. "On that note, wanna go refill that tank?"

Surprisingly, Nightjar had hit the nail on the head. That didn't happen very often. However, when it came to natural behaviours, he could think them up on the spot in the blink of an eye without even really thinking about them. So long as he blurted out what he felt he would do, it was usually right, depending what the topic was. Being a Warden was all about instincts and being a wolf and doing wolf things, so those bases were largely covered by Nightjar's instincts alone.

He giggled again when his father rubbed his butt against the tree. Nightjar almost moved to join him, but Peregrine was explaining that drinking water made pee, and when he was invited to fill the tank, he forgot all about scratching his ass on the tree. "Yeah! Then we can mark more!" he chirped as he practically skipped a few feet ahead of Peregrine, then turned around abruptly. "But where c'n we get thaaaaaaat much water?" Because, you know, Nightjar was hoping to drink an entire lake so he could mark the entire Caldera.

I'm pretty sure you're using this for a trade thread, so feel free to conclude it here! I'm also game to continue too. :)

He appreciated his son's enthusiasm and would do whatever was in his power to keep it alive as he further trained the boy. Peregrine could have gone all literal on Nightjar in response to his question but in the spirit of the moment, he cried, "Why, at the caldera, of course! Let's go!" He bounded toward the pup, tail waving the air, and clipped his floppy ear with his teeth. With a playful bark that defied his exhaustion and sullen moods, he broke into a trot, leading the young prince to the territory's namesake landmark so he could, fittingly, sprinkle his tinkle over all the lands.

"Hey!" Nightjar yelled when his father briefly gripped his ear, but Peregrine was already off and running. His son whirled and sprinted after him, laughing breathlessly and panting the whole way. His tail whipped the air behind him, and when he caught up to the slowed Alpha male, he fell into a trot as well. The need to mark the rest of the rendezvous site called to him; when they reached the caldera, Nightjar drank so much that he almost threw it up and spent the rest of his time with his father marking trees and practicing bladder control.