Redhawk Caldera Don't be afraid to catch feels

He remembered this place.

When the sky had turned green and the clouds had twisted together, the Redhawks had taken refuge in this cave. The entrance was a tight crack in the rock and Nightjar knew it led down into an expansive but dark cavern. His tail lashed at his thighs as he peered into the deep dark. He wanted to map it as well, but he was as hesitant as he'd been during that storm. This time, however, he didn't have his father forcing him down into the Safety Cave. He stood there for a very long time, glaring at the hole and deliberating.

Swallowing back his fear and unease, Nightjar finally shoved his bulky shoulders into the crack, snarling as he squeeze through until he was crouched in the huge space that had housed the pack during the tornado. As he came to rest in the bowels of it, he panted rapidly and his silver eyes darted around, taking in every dimly lit feature. Stalactites and stalagmites, a vein of crystal here and there. It was a pretty typical cave. He suppressed his panic for only a second more, and then he turned tail and scrabbled out of the hole.

When he reached the surface, the whites of his eyes were showing and he was gasping for fresh air. There was plenty of oxygen down there, but Nightjar was hard-pressed to even sleep in a den. Going underground was every sort of unnatural to him.