Redhawk Caldera fits of fire and falling feathers

The soot-spot’s journey had been cut short by the great sweeping of her father’s paw as he wrapped his limb around her and scooted her toward him. Once the little girl was planted firmly between his legs, her head wobbled around dizzily and she breathed a quiet little huff of air out of her mouth. A gentle kiss seemed to come from above, and so the tiny spot of ink pointed her nose upwards in surprise at the caress. The warmth of her father was far different from that of her mother, but she found it comforting all the same. Scooting herself forward just slightly so that her tiny little black hairs could be tickled by the thick tufts of grey fur on her father’s chest, the girl tried to nestle into his arm but could not find comfort there.
 
Arching her head back upward to face her dad in hopes that he might be able to make the bedding underneath her – which was no more than dirt and small rocks – more comfortable, she felt the wet of his nose touch to her own. A surprised little peeping noise was emitted from her mouth, but she did not back down from this newly discovered thing. Instead, she tried to nuzzle into his arm once more to see if he would return his nose and press it against her again.