Redhawk Caldera Nobody puts baby in a corner

"Choo choo!" Wildfire exclaimed as she trotted just behind Peregrine, the tiny red caboose to his big black steam engine. "Choo choo! Choo choo! Choo choo!" Some words were more fun to say than others, so she said them as often as she could, often in a long, repetitive (and annoying) stream. "Chooooo, duh-dee!"

"I hear ya," Peregrine replied, quickening his pace. Maybe if he sped up enough, Wildfire wouldn't have the breath to spare to keep spouting words—rather, the same word over and over. He liked hearing his children talk more and more these days, yet the endless repetition could grate on even the most patient parent's nerves. The buzzwords even haunted his sleep at times."Think you can catch me, little engine that could?" he teased as he began to outpace her.

Wildfire squealed, her paws slapping the ground as she ran as fast as she could to catch up with her fleeing father. It was only a matter of time before she stumbled and fell. For the moment, though, she looked exactly like her namesake: a streak of bright orange wildfire blurring swiftly across the landscape, leaving a trail of smoke dust in her wake.