Redhawk Caldera Somewhere only we know

ooc: all and anyone, who is allowed to be near the den. Siblings are welcome too, of course!

Though the smallest of the litter, the brown cub was still keeping up with his siblings, doing a bit of growing up every day and becoming more curious and harder to be kept in one place at the same time. The inside of the den had been explored thoroughly - the dirt tasted, some pee and poop left here and there and sneezing done, when either the dust was inhaled or the fur of other inhabitants was tickling his nose. And when he was not eating or sleeping (occasionally dreaming about the stars and more often about the simple stuff he had learned during the day), the pull to get to the Great Outside was strong.

The rest of his siblings were more keen on going out, his parents would do the same and often the runt was the only one left inside the den, curling up in a tight ball to preserve the body heat. He seemed to be more susceptible to cold and therefore his lack of motivation do go any further than the den mouth. The world was an exciting place, but not, when one is shivering. So every time - like today as well - when he actually managed to make few steps away from the safety of his home, the cold soon had it's grasp on him. The boy let out some kitten mewls and sat down, shivering.

*ninja*

The entire family was outdoors today, frolicking in the grassy area just in front of the den. All but one, Peregrine noted as she turned and ducked his head inside. "You comin', Sneezy?" he called fondly to the resident runt of the litter, stepping inside and stooping to brush the child's forehead with his muzzle. He was still small, yet his nickname had evolved right along with the others'. And soon they would have proper names. Maybe even today would be the day; they were nearly four weeks now.

Nudging and licking the boy in the hope of scooting him outside, Peregrine called to @Fox. "Hey, isn't it about time we gave them their official names?" They were all healthy, even their sneeze-prone youngest, and carving out their little places in the world. They had distinctive features, behaviors and personalities. Yes, it was high time to label them properly.

If there was one rock-solid thing the little boy had learned by now, then it was - if you wanted something, you had to make your wish to be known. Or... yourself to be noticed to begin with. Being small in stature and sneezing aside, he had developed quite a variety of cries, whenever he was not content. The "milk tank" and the "big black one" were good at guessing, what he wanted around 70% of time. The rest - 30% - was, when he himself had no idea, what exactly was that he craved for. 

Once his father came in sight, Smol's tail began to wag and in response to his kiss on the forehead, he tried to reach up on his hind legs and grab Peregrine's nose between his jaws. The first teeth were sprouting out of his gums, needle sharp and quite practical, when you needed to pick something up. However after soothing the child he failed to guess that the kid was cold and turned away instead. "Wu-wu-wuuuu," he cried, trying to get his attention again.

It would be a lie for Fox to say that she didn't think of names for her children before they were actually ready for them. As was tradition, the Firebirds would receive their proper names until the moon had gone through an entire cycle, start to finish. The moon had waxed, waned, and come right back to where it had been when she had given birth to the four wriggly little boys. She could have sworn this batch was growing much more quickly than last years', but Fox assumed that was only her brain playing tricks on her.

"I suppose so," Fox replied, a smile lingering on her lips. All four of them had made it this far, and they were beginning to become very distinct from one another. Truth be told, Fox had already picked their names out—official or not—but she wanted Peregrine's input, too. "Are we doing half and half again this year?" she asked. "Or should they all be a team effort?"

Tags are primarily for reference, though of course you guys are welcome to pop in here for your official naming! :)

Peregrine missed a good chunk of Fox's response due to the littlest pup's crying and clambering, which he tolerated with a patient smile. "Watch yo' teeth, Sneezy McWheezy," he murmured when he felt them prickling the soft flesh of his muzzle. "I feel so sorry for your mother. Her poor nips must be mangled."

Mostly because he really wanted to continue the conversation with his mate, Peregrine latched onto the runt's scruff, hoisting him and carrying him out into the sunshine. He plopped the little tyke next to his mother, then folded himself to his haunches at her shoulder. He touched his nose to the top of her head, then gazed at their second batch of Firebirds.

After rewinding what she'd said in his head, he replied, "I'm okay with whatever. I know I really like Whip-poor-will for this little guy." He struck out a paw to gently tag the fuzzy little @Whip. He was fairly certain Fox was familiar with the bird in question and couldn't imagine her disapproving. "And I know we've traditionally only given middle names to girls but since we don't have any of those this time around... it would mean a lot to me if we called one Pan. For a middle name, I mean."

Once more, his eyes combed over the four boys. "I'm sure you have something in mind for him," he said, gesturing at @Ferret and his very distinctive markings. "And surely this little butt's markings resemble an animal of some sort?" he added, bending down to nip at the tip of @Gannet's tail when it came within reach. He straightened up and exchanged an easygoing look with his mate, letting her fill in the gaps now that his own preferences were known.

The boy fell silent the moment his father picked him up - his feet drawn to his body and tail tucked to his belly. The moment of hanging in the air lasted only for a while and, when the little astronout landed, he found himself next to the milk tank's familiar form. He let out a happy yip and tried to dive first underneath her and then deciding that a spot next to her warm body would be enough. He let out a content sigh, lifted his head up to peer at his mom's face so high above, and then just curled up and prepared to have a quick nap.

"Whip, Whip, Whip," Fox said, testing the name aloud. "I like that for him." One down, three to go. Peregrine mentioned wanting to give one "Pan" as a middle name, and she nodded in agreement. Pan, wherever he was, had always been an asset to the pack. She still didn't quite believe he had just wandered off without a word. It wasn't like him. Then again, perhaps he had. The world was a fickle place, and wolves fickler.

"Ferret," Fox said, little hesitation between Peregrine's remark and her answer. "He reminds me of my father, Coon." She smiled sweetly at the little bugger. The white and black one was a little bit more difficult, and she squinted at him in thought. "Gannet might work for him... they're white birds with black-tipped wings and toes." That left one, the smallest one, who had just curled himself into a ball.

"You know..." she said, remembering a story from her youth, "there's an old story my parents told me a few times about a runt pup that never grows up. His name in the story is Peter Pan!" It was a double-whammy in Fox's eye.

Fox did not disappoint. Not only did she accept the name he'd chosen for their third (and assigned a nickname which Peregrine hadn't considered himself, having planned to call him Will for short), she quickly gave the remaining three suitable names. Peregrine accepted each of them with an assenting nod and a grin, though his tail lashed with intrigue as she recounted a story from her youth.

He gazed down at the little fur-ball at his mother's feet, mouthing the name: Peter Pan. He loved it instantly and said, "Perfect." He bent down to gently nose the sleepy boy. "I'd be okay with it if he never grew up," he murmured, then straightened up and gazed over the litter collectively as he repeated, "Ferret, Gannet, Whip-poor-will and Peter Pan Redhawk." Thus they were christened.