Redhawk Caldera A birth and a death on the same day

He missed, obviously. Nightjar wasn't quite coordinated enough to actually snatch things from adult wolves. It didn't stop him from trying, though. It wasn't even that he believed what they had belonged to him. It was more instinctive than that—things held in jaws called to him in a way that nothing else did. The temptation was always too much for him and he always tried to grab them himself. It was nature's way of training him to be a good hunter and a fast fighter, not that Nightjar understood any of that.

What he understood was that it usually got a reaction, and it was usually fun.

Sebastian reacted the way most wolves did by backing up a few steps and sinking into a play bow. It was enough to trigger all of Nightjar's playful instincts; he dropped his front as well, his whip-like tail streaking back and forth above his hindquarters and his mouth dropped open smilingly. His right ear was locked on Sebastian while the left dangled uselessly to the side.

He waited there for ten seconds, twenty, thirty, and then shot forward with all the (unimpressive) speed he possessed, aiming his blunt jaws again for the dead raccoon.