Redhawk Caldera gather round

Nightjar listened raptly and did not understand. He was nothing like his Naturalist sister and had spent exactly zero minutes of his life giving a hoot about the sun or the moon. He barely even noticed them, so earthly was he. Wondering about the stars and the secrets of the universe suited his sisters, who both boasted more intelligence than he. So while Fox's story was riveting, it held nothing of value for Nightjar, who simply didn't care how wolves came to be.

That said, he couldn't help asking, "why wolves?" It was probably the smartest question that Nightjar would ever ask in his life, or at least the most thought out. He knew from stories that wolves were not supreme beasts. Mountain lions rivaled them and bears could best them. Even an unruly moose could best a wolf. Why would the sun choose intermediate beasts rather than the greatest of beasts, and why would the sun place other predators on the earth to limit and compete with his creations? That was sheer folly.

Anyway, whatever the reason was, Nightjar was glad to be alive. The sun and moon may have made him, as Fox (sort of) claimed, but they were not his friends and he didn't care about them and would continue to not care about them, because he couldn't fight them, nor feel them as he could feel another wolf beside him, nor converse with them, hunt with them, or train with them.