Redhawk Caldera Seek and ye shall find

Pups. A sudden pang of emotion hit her, though she wasn't quite sure whether that emotion was anger, sadness, fear. . .or all three. Four pups, and more on the way. Yes, this pack had the potential to be powerful; they just needed food.

"I can hunt, sir," Nashoba responded. Her voice was measured, formal; her parents had taught her the proper way to speak to wolves in power. "Or fish. Whatever you need. I also don't need much food myself"--she pointed with her muzzle back toward her trim figure--"so anything I catch will go to the young and those most in need."

"I can also fight, if it comes to that," she added, trying to lay out her resume in a descriptive yet concise way. "I come from a family of warriors."

She gathered this must be a pack of warriors, too. Despite his hunger-weakened form, the gray male's yellow gaze was firm with resolve. He would not back down from a challenge. Nor would she. She cast a brief gaze up at the caldera, then back down at her interviewer, waiting for a response.