Redhawk Caldera Mama said knock you out

As it turned out, Nightjar had absolutely no tactics except heeding his instincts. Even if he thought about fighting and how to do it, when he actually got to it, his brain turned off anyway. Not that it was an impressive brain by any stretch of the imagination, but all the same, what little sense he did have was whisked away in the heat of battle. So while Fox watched her son with hopes that he would show her something cunning, Nightjar watched the goose with the singular intent of beating the crap out of it.

How he did it didn't matter. Whether he came from the front, sides or back was all the same to Nightjar. The obvious weakness of the goose's backside wasn't so obvious to him, nor was the obvious increased threat of retaliation from the front. One could say Nightjar simply didn't care for tactics; that shit was for losers who weren't strong enough to fend off an attacker with sheer physical prowess.

Well, Nightjar wasn't a loser and he could use brute strength alone, so he did. He launched himself forward in a straight line, engaged the goose head-on, and was able to shove it quite forcefully backward. The goose wasn't silent or still through any of this, but when faced with a rather bulky, rather aggressive wolf pup intent on giving it a piece of his mind, all the hissing and biting in the world did very little. In fact, when the goose bit back, Nightjar internalized the pain so easily and so naturally that he almost, almost, made himself numb to it... something that only he could do, surely, because he was too dumb to relent over something like mild or even moderate pain. It would have to be a good deal of pain, the sort that made a child pull its finger back from a very hot surface, the sort that was instinctual alone and not exaggerated by emotion, to stop Nightjar.

And the goose, after a few fruitless seconds, realized that the wolf was seemingly immune to its sharp bill and gave up its defense by backing off quite quickly. Nightjar stayed where he was, breathing hard and letting instinct keep the pain of the goose's retaliation at the back of his mind, where it didn't matter at all, while he recovered.