Redhawk Caldera Come and get it

"Sorry," Nightjar muttered, a little sullenly. It was no secret that the young, free-spirited wolf didn't like being told what to do, especially when his instincts told him otherwise. He would always heed his instincts over the words of another wolf—that was just the way he was born. That was the reason he'd left the tunnels, and as for telling no one, well, he'd been too irrational to think of that. Too stupid, truly.

Sebastian didn't press the issue, for which Nightjar was grateful, and instead asked why he didn't like tunnels. "It's not natural," was the only response he could think of. Wolves did not live underground. Wolves did not live in dens either, with the exception of whelping mothers, though Nightjar had noticed that many of his brethren on the caldera ignored this rule of the wild and made their homes in holes in the ground. Not him. He felt claustrophobic underground, like he couldn't breathe and shouldn't be there, and absolutely refused to sleep in a den. Hiding in the badger den was the first time he'd stepped foot in a den since he was just over a couple months old. "No. Dens are not natural either."