Redhawk Caldera Now you're calling all the boys home

Hotah was moving in a low, steady prowl when her scent reached him—fresh, purposeful, cutting through the tangle of deer and old fox tracks he’d been working. He paused at once, head lifting, breath fogging lightly in the cold air.

He didn’t turn right away.

Didn’t want her seeing the flicker of grief still tightening his jaw.

But when her steps grew close enough to feel through the frost-stiff grass, he let out a slow breath and glanced over his shoulder.

-Morning,- he said softly, voice rough from disuse and sleeplessness.

He shifted just enough that she could fall into step beside him if she wanted, muscles still taut with the leftover coil of the hunt.

His gaze returned to the trail ahead as he added, quieter:

-Didn’t mean to wake anyone. Just… needed to move.-

A brief pause, then a sidelong look—worn, but grateful.

-You looking for me?-