Redhawk Caldera five, six, seven, eight!

In spite of popular belief, Nightjar was very far from reserved. He slept a little more than his sisters did during the day, but while he was awake, he could be an absolute terror. As the only living boy of the litter, it seemed he'd soak up an endless amount of energy during the night and then blow it all in wild explosions during the morning. If Nightjar seemed reserved, it was probably because Finley must never have seen him in the early hours, when he played at being a barbarian king for hours on end.

When her voice echoed into the den, he was already up and about, bouncing roughly on his father's paws and biting none-too-gently. Peregrine was a good sport about all this as usual, though doubtless he looked forward to a rest from Nightjar's toothy habit. His right ear perked and swivelled immediately toward the den entrance. His sisters were quick to finish up their activities and race to Finley's call while he lagged behind for a moment, transfixed by the bug that Wildfire had deposited on her pile of junk at the back of the den. Creeping forward on rather loud paws, Nightjar gave a shifty look around, then quickly gobbled the fleeing bug up and ran out into the sunshine.

Finley and the girls were already ahead, so Nightjar strained to catch up. He might've been the largest, but he was probably also the fattest, so his exertion cancelled out the advantage of his size. He did catch up eventually, though, with a chorus of loud barks and an excitedly hollered, "Ann Fuh-leeeee!" as he aimed a rough but playful nip at his closest sister's tail, spraying bits of bug carapace as he snapped.