Redhawk Caldera Getting high and skipping class

set after this @Towhee Jr

The valley opened beneath them in a long sweep of frost-kissed grass, the morning light just beginning to burn through the lingering haze. Hotah moved at an easy, ground-covering lope, glancing back every so often to be sure Towhee Jr kept pace— not out of doubt, but out of a quiet, instinctive habit. She was sharp, steady, and sure-footed; he’d learned that quickly. Still, he watched.

They slipped between the scrub and the outcroppings until the land widened into a bowl of wind-brushed meadow. That was when he paused, chest lifting as he drew in a long, tactful breath.

There—northwest.

Sharp, musk-heavy, unmistakable.

Hotah’s ears tipped forward. His posture shifted subtly, focus narrowing like a blade honed to a fine edge.

He flicked a glance toward Jr.

Then signed—slow, controlled:

-Buck.-

Another sign followed, smoother now:

-Big.-

He pointed toward the rise of willow and bramble in the distance, where the wind carried the scent strongest. Then he let his weight settle into a hunter’s crouch, muscles coiling beneath his dark coat.

His eyes warmed with a glint that bordered on playful, inviting challenge.

-You… lead?-