Redhawk Caldera who tells interns what to do.

Fig didn't need to ask the question for it to be answered. He turned his gaze towards the woods his father mentioned, mentally cataloguing the information that was shared. He wasn't the best hunter, but he managed just fine. He likely could've been better if he spent the time and energy on improving, but he was more focused on becoming a guardian and protector for the pack. He pondered how it must feel for his father to be back here again after so long, and wondered if he would remember hunting spots at the Copse once he was further down the road. He supposed it just depended how far down the road he got before he tried to remember.

The question threw him for a moment, but it was a brief one before he smiled his humblest of smiles. "Just trying to help get the borders established," he explained, "I didn't think of it as a leader job. Just a regular old guardian job." It was an honest answer, and for a moment, he couldn't help but stop and wonder. Was that a leader's thing to do? It was just an everyday activity for him, but had it secretly been a sign of his potential all this time? He shook his head when the moment was up. He was deluding himself again. He was just Fig--nothing big and bad about him.