Redhawk Caldera We'll always have Paris

Wildfire was learning. Maybe because someone had shown her or maybe because Nightjar was completely predictable, she fell to the ground and slid right under him before he had an opportunity to do anything with his brief advantage. Within a split second of her escape, Nightjar felt her teeth on his rump and he growled and whirled around, doing exactly as she thought he would. He snapped at the air between them, hoping to grab her muzzle, but his wily sister had already widened the gap.

Nightjar wasted no time in closing it again. He rushed her again, but this time he held his head lower in an attempt to thwart her previous strategy of slipping beneath him. It was advantageous enough, anyway; there was nothing vital about the top of his head or the back of his neck, so if she didn't try her previous trick, then Nightjar would just aim for her chest.