Redhawk Caldera Bones in the soil, rust in the oil

Since we've got the new one, mind if we fade this one out?

Once again, Peregrine's words fell on nearly deaf ears. To Whip, who had yet to have any concept of words or communication besides basic body language, the rumbling that came from his father was simply noise. However, this noise was something Whip dearly wanted to imitate. Already, he wanted to be just like dad. As soon as there was silence, Whip tried his best to imitate the sounds his father made, but he only managed a weak, "—ip!" in response.

Still, to the pup, his imitation sufficed. Happy with his accomplishment, Whip peddled his forelegs though the air uninhibited while smiling dumbly at the ceiling.