Redhawk Caldera No cat calls, no tag teams, no mascots

An idle yawn forced his jaws apart and Peregrine slid languidly into a sphinx-like position, broad paws crossing at the ankles and drooping over the lip of the small cave. Despite his laid-back demeanor, he remained vigilant, ears pricking when he heard footfalls approaching. He tipped his muzzle into the air, capturing the scent of the wolf who encroached on the Alpha pair's private space. He did not bother standing or even moving as Nightjar moved into sight.

Truth be told, Peregrine wouldn't have minded allowing his elder son inside the den to meet his little brothers. Nor would he have minded a visit from the Betas or even their son. Finley and Elwood had been part of the first batch of Firebirds' lives from day one, if memory served. But Fox had expressed a wish for total privacy which Peregrine fully intended to respect and uphold, whatever his personal feelings on the matter. Fox was in charge, particularly during these first few weeks.

"Hey," the Alpha greeted his adult son, still motionless save for the flick of his tail. "Your mom's asked that no one disturbs her for now," he said apologetically, "but you're fine to hang outside with your old man." Finally, he rose and stretched, then sprang down from his perch to stand perpendicular to the den's mouth. "Won't be long before you have a pack of minions at your heels." Peregrine had no doubt the pups would look up to their big brother, the loyalest of the original Firebirds.