Redhawk Caldera Hitting the tables without you again

He slid forward, his belly flush with the earth, providing the perfect platform upon which Peter could climb. A small smile played about his lips as the runt did just that. The pressure of his little paws felt good, though it also reminded Peregrine of his son's smallness. If he didn't get proper nutrition, he wouldn't flourish and grow. And pups didn't just stay little forever. They either grew up or they perished.

"Apparently," the Alpha murmured, curling slightly to look at the clambering pup, "there's some greenery past the mountains. What do you think of a road trip?" He wasn't expecting an answer, of course, since young Peter barely spoke yet and wouldn't have known anything about the subject. It was sort of a rhetorical question anyhow. Peregrine chewed on his lower lip, staring pensively past the boy's head, in the general direction of aforementioned mountains.