Nova Peak what’s yours is mine.

He tails after Redd.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong on the Peak.

He can hear Riley’s crazed cries.

Strangers crowd the den. And he can hear the babbles of his nephews within—the thought sets his adrenaline through the roof.

His growl intertwines with Wealda’s. They are flank to flank, until he decides he cannot hang back any longer, and marches forth.

Pups stream from the den. He mustn’t let them wander far.

It wasn’t his territory, but he didn’t care. Redtails always belonged to the Rise.

State your purpose. He hisses in demand of the foreigners tormenting Riley. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, teeth glinting in the sunlight.