Redhawk Caldera Paul is dead.

Hunting? His ears twitched; an expressive, expectant look dawned upon his face. 

Aye, lets go hunt up some grub! Reyes did enjoy such physical pursuits; he liked hunting more than fighting these days and no longer pined for trespassers to traipse across the borders for him to grab or maim—not that he had done those things in recent memory. Once he had wanted to be a guardian to his family... Then he left his family behind and somehow, like a snake shedding its skin, he shed that desire with them. Hunting sufficed to fill his immediate needs of physicality and personal strength; he was thrilled by the invitation and the chance to show off his prowess to his best bro, to top it all off.

While Towhee thought about dropping their less-used skills, Reyes wondered if that was the route he'd be forced to follow for himself. He held no other qualities worth pursuing aside from, maybe, being a chronicler of the day-to-day events of the Caldera pack, or sharing stories of himself the way a pirate would boast and bray to their crew. The thought of sharing anything like that was nauseating - just as the thought of being man-handled by rogues at the border made his skin crawl.

He kept these thoughts tucked away on the average day. Faced with the chance to spend time with one of the only decent men of the pack in this instance, Reyes found it easy to shove the pedantic considerations of his thoughts aside and focus on the physical. What're you in the mood for? He asked, as if a wolf had any choice when it came to the wild spawning of beasts.