Redhawk Caldera See the line where the sky meets the sea, it calls me

It was much too cold for a youngster to be out and about as an unseasonable freeze gripped the caldera, but not even the chilliest of weather would stop young Lagan. Despite the chill creeping up from his paws and legs and the brisk wind that cut through his guard hairs, the Blackthorn moved quickly down a slope, seemingly not bothered by the weather. His boundless energy was enough to keep him warm even on blustery winter days, yet his undercoat could use some filling in, so by the time he dipped into the trees surrounding the old Redhawk rendezvous site, he was lightly shivering.

It likely didn't help that grasped in his jaws was an icicle, and stuck firmly to that icicle was his tongue. Lagan had found it sprouting from above one of the cavern entrances further down the caldera's slope, but quickly found that it wasn't something he should boisterously lick. Boisterous licking was one of Lagan's many ways of showing both interest and excitement, but in this case, he'd received a rude awakening when the icicle refused to let go. Left with no other choice, the boy had tugged and tugged with his jaws until the whole thing cracked off the top. Fast forward to now, as he padded into the center of the rendezvous site with the icicle still attached, and a bewildered Lagan spun about and uttered a muffled, "Hewp!"