Redhawk Caldera this is life in color.

She could have fallen asleep, she was suddenly so comfortable and content, but Wildfire didn't dare close her eyes. They wandered from Finley's chin directly above to Fox's face across the den to her father's looming shadow against the near wall to Nightjar's fat little butt to Raven's tiny muzzle even as her jaws split in a yawn—then back again. Her golden eyes grew dry and achy from lack of blinking and her eyelids began to droop as the sensory overload began to catch up with her.

Still, she wouldn't go down easily. Flopping like a rag doll, the fiery whelp fidgeted about on Finley's feet until deciding to flop onto her back. Her aunt's knuckles dug into her little spine, so she pushed off and oozed to the den's harder but more even floor. Her tiny hind tootsies remained propped on the Beta female's feet, as did the tip of her little black tail.

Belatedly catching her sister's yawn, Wildfire's pink tongue curled out from between her gums and she let her head sink to the floor. For the most part, she was staring up at the dull den ceiling, though she could still see Aunt Finley's face out of the corner of her brand new eyes. She smiled, content.