Emberwood hellbender

The name "Redtail" tickled some long-forgotten memory, but Phox couldn't really pinpoint it. Maybe it was just similar enough to Redhawk that his brain was crossing its wires. He shifted on his hind leg, eventually settling into a lopsided sit. If they really wanted to hurt him—which Phox didn't think was the case—it wasn't going to be the difference between him sitting or standing.

They asked if he was a loner, and Phox nodded. Hadn't Reverie asked the same thing, in a sense? It felt odd to own up to it, if only because Phox had spent so much of his life as a pack wolf. He wasn't entirely opposed to going back to that life, but he did enjoy the freedom that came with not needing to check in with his leaders on a regular basis. He was his own wolf, and he could do as he pleased, without worrying anybody in the process. He could travel on his own timeline and decide where he wanted to go at his own leisure.

Guessing you're not, eh? he half-asked.