Redhawk Caldera #250

Nightjar spotted the advantage and responded by thrusting his entire weight on the raccoon's exposed back, forcing it to the ground. He then dispatched it with a ferocious bite to its spine. Peregrine blinked, mildly surprised by his son's deft handling of the threat, before his face split into a broad grin. He suddenly wished Nightjar was interested in becoming a Gamekeeper—he was clearly an efficient killing machine—but the caldera would be best served if he continued pursuing his W&W apprenticeships. No one could (or would) mess with them again.

"Damn, son, you're a beast," the Alpha complimented, tail waving. "What do you want to do with the body?" he asked even as he eyeballed the pup's injuries. He didn't want to coddle the boy, so unless Nightjar indicated he was hurt and needing help, Peregrine would let him tough it out. In the meantime, he could eat the raccoon or do something else with the carcass; perhaps he might want to keep it as a trophy of sorts.