Redhawk Caldera #250

For a long while, the pup remained hunched over the kill, not really realizing that he had, in fact, killed it. It was no prior knowledge of how to dispatch an animal that led him to this result. It was thousands of years of evolution in the form of instinct. Apparently evolution was a success when it came to wolves, for instinct was as strong as ever, enabling even a younger wolf like himself to do things without even thinking about them.

But his instincts were like a flame and right now, they burned hot. Peregrine didn't approach his son over his kill and that was wise. Though Nightjar was not a violent sort nor a naturally possessive one, with the scent of blood all around him and a warm body below his, they would both be fools not to expect potential lingering aggression. A wrong move could result in a warning snap from any wolf regardless of relationship, even a young one such as himself, and for the next few seconds, Nightjar wasn't just Nightjar Redhawk. He was a cold-blooded killer, a hunter, 100% an animal, and therefore unpredictable as the adrenaline ebbed away.

That moment passed soon enough with neither of them entering into a testy engagement, and he stepped away from the raccoon. His tongue swept over his lips as he gazed at Peregrine, beating his tail back and forth as excitement began to fill him again. Just like that, the beast receded and the boy returned. "Let's show mama!" he proposed, bending down