Redhawk Caldera Sweet child o' mine

"I think she takes her cues from me a little bit," Peregrine said softly, tail swaying as he watched, "though maybe she recognizes your scent. Perhaps, deep down, she knows it was you that brought her that feather." Could that possibly be true? He had no clue. By the time Wildfire could speak properly, she would have forgotten about that feather completely.

"Maybe," the Alpha said, watching as Wildfire shook her head and took a step backward to escape from Jaws's paw. Once it dropped, she laughed and suddenly sprawled on her belly, tiny tongue lolling as she grinned at him, waiting to see what he would do next. "I'm kind of relieved that her screaming didn't evolve into anything worse. She seems to have chilled quite a lot since gaining her senses."

If Wildfire remained this way -- happy, playful but also a touch reserved (perhaps only around those she didn't know) -- Peregrine would be fine with that. He hoped Nightjar and Raven would remain equally easy. They would develop a pecking order among themselves, he knew, as it was only natural. But he hoped there was no dynamic like Osprey's and Saena's of yore. His daughter had been such a strong-willed bully and, looking back, Peregrine would rather not have to go through that again.