Redhawk Caldera Don't be afraid to catch feels

He remembered this place.

When the sky had turned green and the clouds had twisted together, the Redhawks had taken refuge in this cave. The entrance was a tight crack in the rock and Nightjar knew it led down into an expansive but dark cavern. His tail lashed at his thighs as he peered into the deep dark. He wanted to map it as well, but he was as hesitant as he'd been during that storm. This time, however, he didn't have his father forcing him down into the Safety Cave. He stood there for a very long time, glaring at the hole and deliberating.

Swallowing back his fear and unease, Nightjar finally shoved his bulky shoulders into the crack, snarling as he squeeze through until he was crouched in the huge space that had housed the pack during the tornado. As he came to rest in the bowels of it, he panted rapidly and his silver eyes darted around, taking in every dimly lit feature. Stalactites and stalagmites, a vein of crystal here and there. It was a pretty typical cave. He suppressed his panic for only a second more, and then he turned tail and scrabbled out of the hole.

When he reached the surface, the whites of his eyes were showing and he was gasping for fresh air. There was plenty of oxygen down there, but Nightjar was hard-pressed to even sleep in a den. Going underground was every sort of unnatural to him.

It was strangely daunting, this idea of embracing someone she hardly knew, of subverting all her typical instincts and welcoming him into her innermost circle right off the bat. But Towhee couldn't resist the opportunity to forge a bond with someone who knew, in part, the trials and tribulations that came with being deaf. She took a few days to ponder her feelings toward Nightjar before seeking him out. His scent led toward the cave, which caused the Xi's eyebrows to raise curiously as she came to a stop and stood outside.

He emerged within moments, looking a little spooked. "I wouldn't go in there again if I were you," Towhee said tonelessly. "It's bad luck." She licked her lips before explaining, "An avalanche trapped half the pack in there this past winter. I don't remember it—we were really little then—but Raven told me all about it. And Gannet told me about how they got stuck down there once during a swarm of locusts. And..." Well, Nightjar knew the oldest chapter of this story, having been the one to get lost—along with Wildfire—a few summer back, another of Raven's cautionary tales.

His haggard breath caught in his throat when Towhee's flat voice rang out nearby and his ears pressed back sheepishly on his head. For some reason, Nightjar was a little embarrassed to have been caught out in what he considered one of his weaker moments. There was just something so oppressive about caves and it didn't sit well with him. The younger Redhawk told him it was bad luck. He would have agreed with her even before she went on to tell him why.

"Wow," he panted, seating himself and trying his best to hide the quiver in his legs. "I only went down there once, as a kid. Dad made us. There was a real bad storm or something. Technically it probably saved us." He didn't remember the specifics. He didn't really remember being lost, either. He did remember being unable to see anything and feeling like he was going to suffocate the entire time. It still haunted his nightmares, if he was being honest with himself.

"But I believe you, it felt like badness the first time too," he said emphatically, wrinkling his nose at the crevice. It didn't surprise him at all that the "Safety" Cave had proven to be one of the most unsafe places in their territory.

Towhee nodded. "Raven told us about it," she informed him. "That's where I recognized your name," she added, even if it hadn't been an immediate connection the instant he'd arrived on the borders. "It probably saved all of us," she murmured, shooting the yawning mouth an inscrutable look before quickly shifting her eyes back to Nightjar, "but I still think it's bad luck."

And seeing as neither of them was likely to venture into it again anytime soon, the Xi opted to change the subject. It felt weird to announce to him that she'd decided to like him, so Towhee took a more indirect approach. "Would you like to patrol with me? Or maybe spar? Someone mentioned you're a mercenary too?" She couldn't remember who, not that it mattered. "I'm a mercenary, specializing in guardianship but working on warrior too. Along with historian," she tagged on there, having already mentioned that bit to him. Towhee lapsed into silence then, looking at him expectantly, hoping to learn about his interests and skills.

He made a mental note to seek Raven out eventually. He'd never been close with his dark-haired sibling, but he felt it important to catch up with her, especially after ousting Wildfire from the pack. Raven had wandered away in her youth much like he did, but he felt a kinship with her for the fact that they both came back. Presumably, she hadn't intended to seek another life elsewhere. Nightjar's departure wasn't for want of a better pack, either, something he faulted Wildfire for even to this day. He still knew no better leader than his own father.

"You're probably right," he agreed, turning his body slowly and shooting a glare at the cave. It was useful to know of its location should they have need of it again, but Nightjar thought he would rather be swept away in a tornado than forced underground again. His good ear twitched back toward his younger sister when she spoke again and he swung his head back her way, with the bad one falling uselessly to the side.

"We can patrol," he offered. For some reason, he was reluctant to spar with her. Nightjar wasn't great at going easy on anyone. She was Redhawk stock all right, but Towhee was a juvenile and a girl, and he (cockily) thought it wasn't even a question of who would win that fight. She would prove him wrong eventually, no doubt. "I am," he confirmed, "since I was pretty young. More of a guard though." He once aspired to be a guardian and a warrior too, but that was before he left the pack. Fighting with loners for their scraps in order to survive took the joy right out of it, as it turned out.

"I thought you wanted to teach me your tear-oh the next time we met," he wondered, gesturing with his nose for Towhee to lead the way.

He preferred to patrol, so Towhee nodded her head and then motioned for him to walk with her. "Me too," she said as they began heading toward the territory's outskirts. "I recently killed my first wolf," she informed him. "It had something called rabies. It's a sickness passed through saliva, not by bees." Raven had set her straight on that little misapprehension. "I didn't catch it," she was sure to add, in case Nightjar was worried.

He had mentioned ptero, which was significantly more difficult to utilize while otherwise engaged (read: walking). "I can teach you as we walk," she said, "although it's a little harder because a lot of the signing requires use of your forelegs." Towhee stopped in her tracks so she could sign, -Hi, I'm Towhee!- She did it slower than usual so he would have a better chance of memorizing it even while explaining out loud, "I just said, 'hi, I'm Towhee!'"

How many wolves had Nightjar killed? Zero prior to leaving the caldera, but he'd left a few bodies out in the wilderness following scuffles for food. Life was completely different when you didn't have a pack backing you up. He'd come close to dying a few times, too. He wondered if that was part of what had driven him closer to the Teekon Wilds and ultimately back home. Probably.

He didn't know what rabies was although she clarified that it was an illness, but much of what followed came off like gibberish to him. He wasn't the quickest thinker, after all, but even a more intelligent wolf might have tripped up on that one. "Bees?" he wondered. Bees could be pests, but he wasn't sure why Towhee would have assumed that bees would make a wolf sick. Life would have been pretty tragic for them if that was the case. She assured him that she didn't have rabies and he nodded, but hadn't even thought of it. He was still too busy wondering what bees had to do with it.

Nightjar came to a halt as Towhee did, but what she did next puzzled him completely. She'd grown up using her brand of sign language and the dexterity in her paws showed it. Nightjar had grown up merely walking on his paws. Even if he had seen everything she just did—and he hadn't—there was no way in hell he'd be able to mimic it. He tried, though. He lifted one paw and attempted to wiggle his toes, but they barely budged, and he frowned at them. "How can you even do that?"

It took less effort to read his lips, though she still shrewdly focused on them as she anticipated a response of some kind. Towhee smiled in amusement at his question, then shrugged. "I grew up doing it," she told him. "It takes practice," she added.

They were supposed to be heading out on patrol, so the motioned for him to start walking again. "We'll come up with a name sign for you," she said, keeping her face turned toward him. "That's a sign or series of signs that stands for your name. It can be anything you want. Here, I'll show you Phox's."

Once more, she came to a halt so she could demonstrate properly. Towhee paused to make sure she had Nightjar's attention before slowly and emphatically touching a toe to her own nose, then moving that same paw to thump herself in the chest. All the while, she fidgeted in place. After she was done, she paused, then repeated it for him.

"That's how I say Phox's name in ptero," she finished verbally.

Nightjar nodded, but doubted he would ever be able to make any sort of complicated sign. There was a strange swooping sensation in his belly when he thought of how this was a requirement for him to be allowed to stay, because he was almost certain he would never quite get it, but his thoughts didn't go much further than that. Thinking ahead was something he just never did.

He plodded along when urged, relishing the motion as Towhee explained that they would need to come up with a sign for him. Nightjar wracked his brain, but couldn't think of anything. He was a quiet wolf, generally, and he was usually obedient, but there was no sign for either of those things that he could dream up. "I dunno," he said unhelpfully. Then again, what did he expect when he only had about two and a half brain cells to rub together...?

Nightjar paused eagerly in their walk to watch Towhee demonstrate Phox's name, hoping it would help him come up with one of his own. However, the complicated little dance she did only left him more confused. He squinted at her and after a beat or two of trying to comprehend it, he had to ask, "why is that Phox's name?" There had to be a reason she touched her nose and hit herself in the breast, right? The little jig she did with her paws made more sense even to him; Phox was a little hyper, after all.

That was a good question. Towhee's head cocked as she tried to recall how she and Raven had come up with it. "Well, the wiggle's because he's always moving; we sometimes call him Fidget," she explained. "And I put my paw over my heart because I love him." She said that with a bit of a dorky grin before her face resumed its more typical cool expression. "I touch my nose because I like to boop him," she finished with a shrug and a flick of her tail.

"I'll come up with one for you, don't worry," she said as they began moving again. It wasn't too much longer before they found themselves at the borders. Towhee paused, scanning to the left, then to the right, before returning her orange eyes to her elder sibling's face. He was older and more experienced than her, so she was sure he didn't need any explanation from her on what to do next. She stood there a moment, wondering if there was anything she could ask him.

"Do you think we'll find any of those stars that fell the other night?" Towhee queried, wondering if that was a dumb question.

Phox's ptero name was very well thought out, but that wasn't very surprising. Nightjar hadn't known her long, but had the sense that his deaf sister was a lot smarter than he was, and perhaps even smarter than Raven in a practical sense. Smarter than Fox had been, for sure, and maybe even smarter than Peregrine. That she came up with an elaborate sign for her sibling that held actual meaning was only testament to that, and the fact Nightjar never would have figured it out on his own was evidence of his own lack of imagination.

"Okay," was all he offered in response. He would have helped her come up with one if only he could think of something, but he wasn't made for thinking. He was made for action and brute force. So he swept forward when the borders came into view, tail waving stiffly as he craned his neck to scan the horizon, and only pulled his attention away when Towhee voiced her question.

"No," he answered honestly, "stars are in the sky, not here." He had no idea that stars could, in fact, fall to earth and be found as stones. As far as he knew, the sky and the earth were two completely separate realms. Nothing from the sky could touch the earth, and nothing from the earth could touch the sky, and that was that. There were at least a dozen holes in this theory of his (what about birds?) but he'd never even thought of any of them.

If it was a stupid question, he at least didn't make her feel foolish about posing it. He answered succinctly and Towhee merely nodded, wondering how the stars had moved across the sky like that. Something told her he wouldn't know, so she didn't bother asking. Anyway, that was a question better left for Phox.

As they straddled the borders, Towhee's sharp eyes picked out a shape ahead. She picked up the pace, cantering toward it, coming to a stop over it. She studied the pile of dung for a moment, then peered at Nightjar to say, "I don't recognize the scent." Of course, feces were feces. But the scent markers around it belonged to some sort of creature she didn't know. Her brows lifted, wondering if her older brother might, and whether this animal posed any sort of threat to the wolf pack.

He followed the dark figure dutifully until she located a pile of feces, and he stood by when she bent to inspect it. As many who knew him knew, Nightjar was too lazy to make an effective hunter. What many didn't know about him was that he was too lazy—or found it too mentally taxing, maybe—to properly learn the scent of every animal. He knew the basic ones, but when it came to unknowns or infrequent visitors, Nightjar very easily forgot them.

So when Towhee indicated that she didn't recognize the scent, a metaphorical sweat drop slipped down the side of his face as he inched tentatively forward to sniff at it. As expected, he didn't really recognize it either. There was something vaguely familiar about it, a similarity to mountain cats he had heard yowling on his lone journeys, but it was different too. With a flicker of his good ear, he lifted his head and grimaced. "Dunno," he concluded, "some cat, maybe. Your brother might know."

Phox had done an excellent job manning the caches. Peregrine would be beyond proud. If any wolf on the Caldera might have encountered this smell before, Nightjar would bet on the grey-and-white Redhawk. If not him, then possibly Finley, resident bear wrangler.

He didn't know either, though Towhee didn't hold that against him. He made his best guess and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Wild cats were no joke. They were a threat not only to the pack's stashes but to the wolves themselves. Hopefully this one had merely passed through on its way somewhere else.

Something about Nightjar's response struck Towhee oddly. "Don't you mean our brother?" she questioned, her tail fanning the air. "I'll bring him by here later to make an identification," Towhee added, since it wasn't a bad idea at all. "Meanwhile... onward?" She motioned toward the borderlands stretching out before them, then resumed her easy, loping pace with the assumption that he wasn't far behind.

Seems like a good place to wrap it up? :)

"He's your brother," Nightjar insisted. Phox was indeed their brother as Towhee had said, but he was a little more dim-witted than the average wolf, and considered Wildfire and Raven to be more his sisters than anyone else's sisters, as they'd been born together. Likewise, he considered Towhee and Phox to be closer siblings than he was to either of them because they had been born together, regardless of actual relationship. They were all siblings but Nightjar differentiated between the different litters by considering them separate entities.

Anyway, Towhee was suggesting they move on, and Nightjar agreed. Standing around wouldn't get them any answers. With a nod, the burly male fell in with his sibling and headed further down the borders, but they found no sign of the cat that left the dung and would need to rely on Phox's expertise to know just what had visited their territory.