Redhawk Caldera Elementary, my dear Watson

Jaws could not help but laugh when Wildfire clapped the bird across the head. The gray jay let out a shriek and made the jump to take off and fly, but he was still held by his tail and promptly hit the ground in a very unceremonious way, landing flat on his belly and beak, momentarily dazed. Although he was amused at first, getting a little revenge on his bird for pecking him twice, Jaws felt guilty in that moment, and reached down to coax his bird back to its feet gently with his muzzle. It let out a pitiful chirp, which stirred the coywolf to even more guilt, so he took his paw off the bird's tail.

But the gray jay did not fly off, instead it turned to face Wildfire again, and this time it gave her a piece of its mind, chirping and squawking as he took a few steps toward her, but its newfound courage was very fleeting. Suddenly, as if remembering that it was afraid of others, the gray jay shuffled back and huddled against Jaws' foreleg again. The coywolf looked at it with a quizzical look, surprised it did not fly off as its method of staying by Jaws' leg hardly helped it last time. Yet stay it did, beady black eyes on Wildfire.