Redhawk Caldera Back before children had settled her friends

Hotah’s laugh carried low in his chest at her snort, but he didn’t press her further. The hunt had claimed them both, sharpening the air into something alive with movement and purpose.
When the otter broke surface again, his body tensed like a drawn bow. He watched Trailhawk dive in first, fearless, water splashing up around her as she cut the creature off from its escape. The sight almost stole his focus—the confidence, the grace, the bite of determination on her face. Almost.
Hotah lunged in after, a heavy strike through the shallows, cutting across the otter’s flank to push it back toward her waiting teeth. His jaws snapped, not to finish it but to herd it tighter into the trap they were making together.
You’ve got it! he barked, half-command, half-cheer, the thrill clear in his voice. Even drenched, even splattered with river muck, he grinned wide. This—this felt like the best kind of date.