Redhawk Caldera waxwing

Eljay stretched his legs, his back, his body, movements slow and stiff. It was a necessary ritual these days, for his body ached more with each passing day, it seemed. Being a grandfather kept him young in the head, but his body did not agree with the sentiment. After he finished stretching back and forth, Eljay shook his pelt and then started in a slow, slightly limping trot towards the heart of the territory. He wanted to check out if he could track some of the herds, and he had last seen one in the territory's center, but was distracted on his way by none other than a pair of ears.

A smile appeared on the grandfather's face when he noticed the ears, but he decided to play the fool instead, for the sake of the game. He lowered his nose to the ground and started to head straight for the pile, zigzagging a little. As he approached, Eljay was due to run straight into the pup-shaped pile of leaves nose-first.