Redhawk Caldera The lost boys

"Nope," Nightjar answered as he moved aside, leaving room for Peregrine to duck out of the den. Whether he missed the comment about brothers or simply didn't catch on to the significance of it, he didn't comment on it, but instead hissed, "woaaah dawg," as Peregrine's battered face came into the light. He chuckled throatily, assuming that his father's injury was only a surface wound and not the reflection of an emotional wound so deep that it cut his pride and his dignity in half. "You look like you got hit by a bear," he commented.

The pack's turmoil was only known in whispers to Nightjar, who had not embroiled himself in the conflict. He didn't know that his dad couldn't smell anything according to the pack. Had he known, he might have been slightly uneasy—he'd once conversed with Peregrine about leaving the sick and weak to die—but that was where it would have ended. He was, however, blissfully unaware of all of this and a little too slow to catch on to Peregrine's strained tone, so he launched instantly into another topic.

"My thang was stickin' up this morning," he blurted out. "What gives?"

Did I say jock? I might've meant gangster? Idk this attitude change'll develop as I go along. >_> He will retain his instincts if not his dignity!