Redhawk Caldera carry on phenomenon

Peregrine gave Fox her space during the labor and delivery, squashing the urge to stick his head inside the den just about every fourteen seconds. He paced outside, stopping often to cock his head and listen to the noises coming from within the whelping den. It sounded like everything was going according to plan. He silently coached her, though every thought in his head immediately flew out the window when he heard the first and unmistakable cry of a newborn.

Oh, man, he was itching to look inside now, just for one second. But Peregrine waited, pacing and fidgeting, until a telling hush suddenly fell. That was his cue if there ever was one. He burst into the den, looking first at the flopped Fox—she had promptly passed out—and then at the four bundles tucked beside her. His heart did flipflops as he moved closer, pressing his nose to Fox's warm cheek; he was rewarded with a faint flutter of eyelashes.

Then his attention turned to his babies, his four sons, just as he had predicted. His eyes were drawn to the nearest pup (Peter), whose small size reminded the Alpha male of little "Derp." Hopefully he wouldn't suffer his older brother's fate. Peregrine touched his nose to the child's head in welcome. Then he moved onto the next pup (Whip), snuffling at his little face. The third pup in the row (Gannett) was on his side and the father gave his pale ribs a little tickle. The fourth and final pup (Ferret)—the largest of the batch and the clear firstborn—was given a gentle, fatherly kiss.

Immediately, he settled down on the den floor, large black body curling protectively around the squirming litter and his head near his unconscious mate's so that he could occasionally pepper her sleeping face with proud, affectionate kisses.