Redhawk Caldera Your words cut deeper than a knife

Whatever Fox was thinking, none of it was evident to Nightjar. Hell, he wasn't even perceptive enough to hazard a guess, not when it came to the inner workings of the mind. He could tell there was some distress there, but otherwise he didn't sense anything from her. Not until she spoke did he have the slightest idea what she thought about his "broke" ear, and when she did speak, it was to ask him how he felt about it more or less.

He shook his head in a single sweep, no. One could tell from his demeanour alone that it wasn't a bother. Sure, his left side was significantly more vulnerable to ambush than his right, and he was unable to have adjustable 360 degree hearing like many wolves did, but he was okay for it. It didn't affect his ability to patrol and it hadn't yet affected his ability to fight, perhaps because like Fox, not many realized he had a problem on that side. Lucky for him; if one figured it out mid-fight, they would have an advantage. The subtle scrape of their feet on the ground that could give their moves away would become a mystery to him if they remained solely to his left. Nightjar didn't know that, either, and so perhaps they didn't know because he didn't do a good job of compensating because he didn't know that he had to.

One day he would surely be exploited, but that day hadn't come yet.