Redhawk Caldera know your roots

Speaking to the children had always been amusing, and they continued to ask questions. Wildfire shot off one about ravens and birds, while Nightjar seemed to lack certain vocabulary. To be fair, Fox talked to them as if they were adults, expecting them to just know what she was talking about. That wasn't always the case, which, of course, led to questions.

"Raven can haunt—or hunt—all the ravens she'd like to," Fox replied with a grin. "And a nightjar is a kind of bird. A teeny tiny bird with brown feathers." Nightjar the wolf didn't mirror the bird in size, but he certainly did in appearance with his varying shades of brown, black, and occasional white. "And a dhole is kind of like a wolf, but smaller. They have red fur. I've never seen one, but I've heard about them, so I just have to assume that's true."

"A tradition," Fox replied, emphasizing the pronunciation of the word, "is something every wolf in a family does. So it's our tradition for you to sit and listen to me tell stories." And hopefully, that would answer all of their questions (at least for now). "Come on," Fox said, getting to her feet and herding the children, "let's go get some water before the sun disappears."