Redhawk Caldera shakin' that thang like who's da ish.

"Fine," he huffed with a roll of his eyes, pretending to be a lot more put out than he actually was. Truthfully, he would have dug all the way to China, as long as Finley was nearby. He gave up on trying to clean his legs -- it was pointless, knowing that he would be the only one digging -- and stood, turning to retreat back into the burrow.

Before he entered, though, he suddenly reached out a paw towards the reclining Finley -- a very muddy, very dirty paw. He clapped his foot right on top of her head, leaving a prominent, dark brown print. With a shriek of laughter, he then dove head-first into the den, resuming his digging with fervor and sending a spray of dirt flying from between his hind legs -- hopefully to keep her from retaliating.