Redhawk Caldera fikon

The first warm body to appear within firing range came from behind, and wasn't of the sort that would allow Grimm to to exhibit her talents as a guard. The dark girl gave the silent plains one last look before turning to greet her pack-mate with a wide, tongue-lolling grin.

"Ahoy, veteran!" she called back, cantering to close the distance. He looked to be around her age, with a coat suited to mountain offsetting a pair of kind, butter-yellow eyes. His scent was one she recognized; it featured strongly around the borders, and she guessed that this put him somewhere near Fox and Peregrine on the Caldera totem pole. Knowing that kept Grimm's ears flat and tail low as she shuffled into Elwood's personal space, stretching her head out to lick at his chin. The integrity of the Caldera's hierarchy did not seem to require the endless posturing and elaborate reassertion of rank that she was accustomed to, but Grimm wasn't about to risk offending someone that subscribed to tradition.

"I'm Grimm. Peregrine took me in," she offered cheerfully, stepping back far enough to avoid giving Elwood an olfactory front-row seat to the What Grimm Ate For Breakfast cabaret.