Redhawk Caldera Back before children had settled her friends

Morning had been spent on the usual work — checking caches, nosing along the borders, pulling his weight. But by the time the sun had begun its lazy slide down toward the ridges, Hotah’s thoughts weren’t on patrols or marmots or anything practical.
They were on Trailhawk.
He padded through the Caldera with a little more purpose than usual, dark ears pricked as he searched for her pale coat among the brush and rock. It was strange, thinking of a hunt like a “date,” but he found himself liking the idea more than he’d expected. A chance to run, to work alongside her again, maybe even laugh about it after.
@Trailhawk? he called softly as he paused near one of the game trails, nose testing the air. You around?
There was a faint grin tugging at his muzzle, boyish in a way he didn’t often let slip.

In truth, she was thinking not about any faces or hunting.

Perched upon a large stone, warmed by what the sun had provided earlier in the day, she was peering at the sky for the first glint of stars. Hopeful to see them and retell the stories to herself. Soon she'd fill the ears of the children with them but for now, it was mostly for herself. To feel the remaining connection between herself and the family she had left behind.

Perhaps the melancholy of her conversation with Cinar had not fully left her.

It was something to set aside as she heard a familiar voice.

Her head turned over her shoulder from her stone-perched spot, yellow eyes spotting his hunter's frame with an ease. If only because she had the benefit of having been in these lands a smidge longer than him. Yet she imagined with all his hunting, he'd know these lands nearly better than her in no time!

Here, She called warmly and hoped to beckon him for a moment before they began their promised hunt.

Hotah’s ears tipped forward at her call, and he closed the distance with an easy stride, a small warmth in his chest at how readily she welcomed him.
Trailhawk, he greeted, voice lighter than usual, and dipped his head to bump his nose gently against her temple. A simple touch, but meant to show his happiness at finding her here.
He settled at the base of her stone for a breath, dark eyes flicking up to where she’d been watching the sky. Good spot, he said with a faint grin. You waiting for stars, or for me?
The tease carried no weight, only humor, and his tail gave a small sway as he looked up at her, ready for their promised hunt.

The touch was easily returned. Content to forge this bond with him in whatever way it went — strong connections she reminded herself. The Caldera was becoming her home. She could not be a stranger to anyone.

But maybe she could be special to some.

His question expelled a huff of laughter from her as she stood upright. Peering down at him only slightly from this elevated spot.

Both. She declared with a hum. But you are hunter. You do not wait for stars. There was some kind of challenging humor in her voice now!

Would he surprise her?

Hotah’s grin widened at her words, the challenge in her tone sparking something playful in him. He leaned back a little, dark eyes steady on her where she perched above.
Both, huh? he echoed, tail giving an easy sway. Guess I’ll take that.
He tipped his muzzle briefly skyward, as if considering the stars she’d been waiting for. You’re not wrong, though— I’m a hunter. I chase what runs on the ground. But, his gaze found hers again, steady and warm, doesn’t mean I don’t notice what’s up there too.
He stood then, closing the space to the edge of her stone with an almost boyish smile. Maybe I’ll surprise you yet.

They seemed keen to tease one another, to fill the silence with humor instead. She was not sure she expected the hunter to have this side to him. It pleased her greatly to explore it, to see it come out more.

You can do surprises after hunt. This meant that also they could...spend more time together. That they did not need to depart one another immediately after the kill. Even if she had done such intentionally last time!

What do we hunt tonight?

She left the stone behind to come down to him. A bump of her shoulder to his own.

Hotah welcomed the bump of her shoulder with an easy smile, rolling his own against hers in return before glancing out toward the open stretch of land below.
Elk herd’s on the move, he said, confidence edging his tone. Calves are quick on their feet now, but still not too quick for us if we press hard enough. His tail flicked once, thoughtful. Or— river otters. Smaller, sure, but good eating if you don’t mind getting your paws wet.
He gave her a sidelong look, grin tugging at his mouth. Could even go simple. Ground voles. Not much of a challenge, but if that’s your favorite, I won’t complain.
A short pause, then he asked, half curious and half teasing, So what is it, Trailhawk? What’s your favorite to chase down?

He was a bold man to suggest elk — but she should not be so surprised, if he had been bold enough to suggest this as a date. She worried that she might make a fool of herself! Even if he stated the calves would still be easy.

Ground voles would be too easy though. Which meant...

River otters. She decided with a bold smile. I have not hunted them, but I have decided. You will teach me, no?

A swish of her tail aimed near his face as she moved a few steps ahead. He would lead the hunt, sure, but she could take a bit of charge in taking them there.

Hotah laughed under his breath, shaking his head as her tail brushed past his face. River otters it is, he agreed, falling into step behind her with a grin that was equal parts amused and eager.
Slimy little things, quick too. Trick is not letting them drag you into the water with ’em. His tone carried confidence, but there was a spark of humor in it as well. Don’t worry— I’ll teach you. You’ll be an expert by the time we’re through.
He trotted a pace faster, nudging her shoulder with his own as he moved to take the lead. This way, he said, motioning toward the sound of water ahead. Let’s see how bold you’re feeling once one of those slick bastards snaps at you.

We will be best team. I said it already.

She offered this with warm laughter. Not too terribly worried about scaring off any river otters when they were not even to the source yet! Although speaking of scaring...

Her eyes narrowed in mock-judgement as she looked over at his now leading figure.

Do you think I scare easily? It takes more than a snap. As if needing to prove a point, she playfully clicked her teeth in his direction.

Hotah tossed her a grin over his shoulder, teeth flashing as he let out a low chuckle.
I believe you, he said easily, slowing his pace just enough to catch her playful snap. Honestly? You’re probably scarier than the otters anyway. His brows lifted in mock-seriousness, though the humor lingered in his tone.
He bumped her shoulder with his own as they walked. Best team, yeah. I don’t doubt it. But remind me not to get on your bad side— I’d rather take my chances with something slimy and snapping in the water.

She snorted with laughter.

Scary had never been the word used for her before. She was not sure if it ever would be! Yet there was a mild sense of flattery in knowing he did not want to be on her bad side. Perhaps that sentiment should be used more for the beefier members like leadership but...

You? On a bad side? I do not think you can do that. It was meant as a compliment, spoken with a low swish of her tail.

Then movement at the water caught her attention. Something slipping from shoreline into water.

Look! She encouraged him with a low whisper. It took plenty restraint to not begin the chase now.

Hotah’s ears pricked at her laughter, a warmth settling in his chest. Scary or not, he liked the fire in her voice, the way she carried herself.
Don’t tempt me, he teased back in a low rumble, grin flicking quick across his muzzle. Give me time, maybe I’ll prove you wrong.
But her sudden whisper shifted his focus. He followed her gaze, catching the slick ripple of fur sliding from bank to water. His muscles tensed, body lowering into that patient crouch that had served him well a hundred hunts before.
I see it, he murmured, his voice almost drowned by the lap of water. A sidelong glance to her— yellow eyes lit, eager — and he gave a small nod. When it surfaces again, we cut it off together. You flush, I’ll pin.
His tail brushed hers once, quick and wordless, a signal as much as reassurance. Already he was leaning forward, every part of him coiled for the strike.

That was not something she wanted to be proven wrong on. So she dismissed it with an amused snort and roll of her yellow eyes.

Thankfully now was the time for the hunt. The good stuff, so to speak. Trailhawk had never done...dates before. Not once. Yet she found that if she was going to do them, this was how she wanted one to go. An activity that involved both people. That showed off their teamwork and...

The thought slipped away as she saw the otter break the surface once more.

As instructed, she wasted no time in the rush. Straight into the cooling water without any fear of getting wet. Intent on blocking off its path to deeper waters, snipping teeth at the angry sleek creature.

Hotah’s laugh carried low in his chest at her snort, but he didn’t press her further. The hunt had claimed them both, sharpening the air into something alive with movement and purpose.
When the otter broke surface again, his body tensed like a drawn bow. He watched Trailhawk dive in first, fearless, water splashing up around her as she cut the creature off from its escape. The sight almost stole his focus—the confidence, the grace, the bite of determination on her face. Almost.
Hotah lunged in after, a heavy strike through the shallows, cutting across the otter’s flank to push it back toward her waiting teeth. His jaws snapped, not to finish it but to herd it tighter into the trap they were making together.
You’ve got it! he barked, half-command, half-cheer, the thrill clear in his voice. Even drenched, even splattered with river muck, he grinned wide. This—this felt like the best kind of date.

Her fur was quickly taking on a muck-hue, looking more like his own natural coloring. A drenched underside with mud slicked paws. This was hardly nimble or graceful work, but she was prepared to see it through. Not unlike an alligator the way she wanted to get this otter.

Between her and Hotah it would hardly be much of a match.

Yet this time when she came herding it, the otter had the smart idea to fight back. With the adrenaline she hardly felt it at first. It was only between the taste of water and mud did she detect that it had managed to catch her lip. Nothing too extreme, she didn't think, but enough to rile her further.

Finish it! She whooped in encouragement to her...date.

Hotah’s ears pricked at her call, his almond eyes flashing as the otter twisted and lashed between them. He surged forward with a clean, decisive strike, dark muzzle snapping down to catch the squirming beast where neck met shoulder. A violent shake, a growl deep in his chest— and then stillness, the riverbank ringing only with the rush of water.
He dropped the limp creature to the mud, breath heaving, fur slick with spray. A quick glance to Trailhawk, sharp gaze softening at the sight of her lip marked red. Got it, he said, voice rough but laced with a crooked smile. He nosed the otter toward her paws. You drove it my way. Your victory as much as mine.
A beat passed, his brow quirking with something teasing. Though… I’d hate to say your first date left you bleeding. His tail flicked, humor rising through the grit of the hunt, even as he leaned in close enough to brush his muzzle against her cheek— part check, part reassurance.