Redhawk Caldera No protest from me.

Njal may have been instructed to keep his distance from the rendezvous site, but nobody said that Nightjar couldn't find his way out of it. In fact, it was a bit of a habit lately. You see, Nightjar was made restless by his sister's success in what he felt was his area of expertise (he was a child and so expert was a bit of a stretch, but try telling him that). He was immensely proud of her, but also disappointed in himself, and so he found himself away from the rendezvous site more often than not. Whether it was to stay out of Wildfire's way until he earned his own stripes or because he was determined to prove himself by being as adult as possible, nobody knew.

He slipped away whenever no one was watching, just like today. The three month old fancied himself powerful enough to man the borders just like his father, old enough to do as he pleased, and the instinct to protect thrummed through his blood, so that was where he was headed. That he wasn't supposed to leave the rendezvous site didn't really matter to him. Instinct overrode that.

It took quite some time to get there, but Nightjar arrived just in time to see Njal disappear around the trunk of a tree. The pup was quite naive, and so one would think he would give chase, but Nightjar was also very instinctual. He didn't need to chase down the stranger on the border, for the scent of Fox lay upon him, marking him as one of the pack. There was no doubt. Nightjar did follow Njal though, as silently as he could, which wasn't very silently at all, for he was a burly and brawny cub without much grace to his name.