Redhawk Caldera a n o a n a

She beamed at his exclamation, then bit her lip and actually took a moment to ascertain her small collection. One of the “feathers” was actually a sprig of spruce. Shenanigans smothered a giggle behind her paw when she noticed. Would it still count? It looked similar to the others, which included a fairly plain brown feather with a white stem, surely dropped by a Canadian goose winging south for the winter.

Bronco seemed happy enough with their assortment. Shenanigans watched as he swept some dirt aside and placed two pebbles beside one another. But before he did anything else with them, he indicated that it was time to adorn themselves with the feathers.

That one, ‘cause it smells nice, she said, laughing again as she pointed at the spruce, well aware that it wasn’t actually a feather. And that one, she continued eagerly, pointing at the slightly disheveled hawk feather. It matches me! she explained, rearing onto her haunches so he could better view the rusty red on her chest and belly.