Redhawk Caldera and you will do a shit on their graves

Truth be told, Phox had always been a lover, not a fighter. That was Towhee's department. Heck, even Fennec was a better fighter than him! Still, he knew an angry child when he saw one. Vesper could swear all she wanted that she wasn't a Redhawk, but he saw it clear as day. He'd seen it in Towhee before, in Fennec, in Niamh, and now in Vesper. Pure, unfiltered rage.

She was nearing half a year, and while she was small, Phox knew even small wolves could do damage if they really wanted to. And yet... maybe it would be a way to connect, or at least let her release whatever it was she seemed to have against him. He had never stepped in and tried to be her father, but he had tried to be there for her in whatever capacity she needed. Right now, it seemed pretty clear that she needed a punching bag.

Phox said nothing as he approached, though he took an obvious defensive stance as he stood there, his tail lashing as he awaited her reaction.