Redhawk Caldera jaguar

The day following his night of trespass, Kaizer returned, as diligent and as wild as ever. He had taken a much-needed period of rest after his exciting encounter with the Caldera's young upstarts, but none of that deterred him from his blatant goal; none of that mattered when the breeze still carried on it the billowing scent of @Fox. He could smell her even over the dead otter he carried for her from the lake. Depositing his still-damp catch, and licking his chops, the roguish competitor came to stand at the clearly marked border of Redhawk.

Though it wasn't a natural choice for him, he had decided that he would not cross their threshold uninvited again. Out of the two times he had come here, the one time he didn't cross this line had gone infinitely in a better direction so it stood to reason that this was proper etiquette here. Still, he wasn't inclined to just stand there or call for an audience when his intentions were so specified, so he picked up the lake-weasel— whose tail dragged on the ground even with his head held at its highest— and began trotting along the border in search of someone.