Redhawk Caldera Bones in the soil, rust in the oil

Sure, I'll wrap it for us. :)

The father mistook the noise for a hiccup and he snorted a laugh, rolling over onto his side and stretching out his free leg to gather his son closer to him. He gently pulled him to his chest, pinning him there as Peregrine ran his tongue over the youngster's head. Although he squirmed a bit initially, no tiny puppy could resist the soothing effect of a warm tongue. Soon he was babbling sleepily, his barely open eyes fluttering closed.

Peregrine shifted so that Whip-poor-will (he couldn't help but already think of him by that name) was practically hidden from view, tucked up under his leg, then let his chin drift over top of his head. After a cursory glance around the den to make sure everyone else was comfy and settled too, he let his eyes drift shut too.