Redhawk Caldera You just put your lips together and blow

Those thirty seconds lasted forever in Wildfire's small world. Then Aunt Finley's familiar legs slid past her on either side and she blinked up at the leader apprehensively, lower lip still quivering. When Finley spoke this time, her voice was soft and affectionate. She explained that she was just trying to keep the pup safe. Wildfire nodded. She understood it; she truly did! What she didn't understand was her own impulse to bite the coyote. She didn't know the term instinct or she might have blamed it.

Smiling a watery smile, Wildfire pressed herself up against Aunt Finley's soft throat, nibbling at the Beta female's chin in a way that was borne of fondness, respect and obedience. "Is it dead?" she whispered, slipping her snout from beneath the woman's throat to look past her, toward where Magpie was sniffing at the limp coyote. Wildfire had a rudimentary understanding of death, if not its true permanence, and it intrigued her as an aspiring Naturalist.