Redhawk Caldera Bones in the soil, rust in the oil

His abrupt appearance seemed to startle little Potato Tommy Gun, though only for a moment. Peregrine held very still as the puppy assessed him (he probably looked like a massive black blob to the poor kid), then began to scoot toward him again. The Alpha lowered his head some more to accommodate him, putting it well within the youngster's reach. But the moment little T.G. reached out to touch him, he lost his balance.

Before his chin could hit the floor, the swarthy father pushed his snout forward a few inches to cushion the boy's fall, resulting in the little Pi sprawling over the top of his muzzle like a weird, furry starfish.