Redhawk Caldera Because I'm tacky

Lifting one of his weak paws, the boy awkwardly rubbed at his smarting chin, momentarily forgetting that he was acting like a blanket to his smaller sister. She was so still that it was easy for Nightjar not to notice her; after all, he was still learning to coordinate his body, let alone realizing that part of it was higher up than the rest. Wildfire wasn't interested in letting him stay there forever, though. A loud squeak was the only warning he had before her paw kicked out and hit him, not in the gut, but in his sensitive little boy bits.

The sound that came from Nightjar's throat as he fell off of her and curled into himself was somewhere between a strangled yowl and a screech. It was an incomprehensible feeling, this type and level of pain, enough that when Nightjar was able to move—yes, he'd momentarily been paralyzed—he promptly thrashed his hind legs about, hoping to deter Wildfire from ever doing that again.