Redhawk Caldera ∧∧

His ears flicked at her words, a small understanding dawning as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. Dark eyes steady, his posture did not shift from its low bearing. But his head curved upward. She was right, it is against the grain. It didn't feel right. The order of hierarchy pulled at him tightly, albeit it was her own request. 
I am Hotah, he said again, eyes connected with hers. I seek a home for the winter—permanently, I hope. In return, I will hunt.
Surely there were mouths to feed. Hunting, if not the best, was one skill he could count on. With summer coming to a close, they would not go hungry. He would make sure of it!