Redhawk Caldera An only child of the universe

Well this was certainly a new and unusual sight. Wylla's squint grew narrower and narrower as Towhee closed the gap between them, nearly unseating the very out-of-place hawk in the process. She quickly surmised that they must have gotten stuck together somehow, though strangely enough, neither wolf nor hawk seemed overly distressed about it. The wolf—larger than she by a good margin with very distinct red and white markings that would be impossible to forget—even shot an apology over her shoulder at the bird, which made Wylla's ears fall back once more.

"Uh, what the heck is—?" she tried to loudly ask, but was cut off by the brusque command of the pack wolf, followed by the hawk's own iteration. Her eyes darted between the pair of them as Wylla tried to decide which of them deserved a withering look more, but she remembered herself and where she was long enough to answer, "Wylla. I'm, uh, looking to talk to the leader...?" Though if said leader arrived with a bird on their shoulder too or, heaven forbid, this was the leader, then she didn't know what to think. She wasn't really in the market for a weird hippy "food is friend" freak-fest pack.