Redhawk Caldera We used to sit up at the flats

Looking for Lyric and Carolina, but doesn't have to be both :).

Hotah carried the pair of stag’s hooves carefully between his jaws, their hard edges clacking softly as he moved. They weren’t much use to grown wolves— but to pups? Toys, trophies, something to gnaw when the caches were full. @Towhee’s words still rang in his ears, urging him to meet the children, to weave himself into the pack in ways beyond hunting alone.
The male hunter moved at an easy lope through the Caldera, nose lifting to catch the scents that trailed near Amalia’s den. @Lyric Redhawk. @Carolina Redhawk. He remembered their names, repeating them in his head so he wouldn’t forget. His almond eyes softened as he neared the familiar ground, ears pricked for the laughter or chatter of young voices.
When the clearing opened before him, he paused. His tail gave a slow sway, almost tentative, before he padded forward with the gifts dangling from his mouth— ready to offer them, and himself, in good faith.

Lyric was the first to poke his head out of the den, curious as usual. His brow was fast to furrow however - not because Hotah had done anything wrong, but the pup was confused by all of the strangers coming around recently. There was no guarantee that this one would be as cool as Trailhawk, either.

What do you want? My mom is sleeping. And it was his job to make sure she wasn't interrupted! Lyric took this job very seriously, though the squeaky puppy voice didn't exactly show it.

Hotah lowered his head a little, setting the two stag hoofs down in the snow with a soft thud. His almond eyes warmed as he looked at the boy, unbothered by the sharpness in Lyric’s voice. Pups were meant to guard their dens, and he respected it.
I don’t want to wake her, he said quietly, a small smile tugging at his muzzle. I came to see you, Lyric. Thought you might like these to play with. His nose flicked toward the hoofs, their polished edges catching the light. They’re good for games, or for chewing—whatever you decide.
Hotah eased back a step, making sure the boy saw there was no threat. I've been out in the plains hunting. Haven't had a chance to say hello, He gave a nod, steady and respectful. So this is just a hello—from me to you.

Carolina was less concerned about their packages wandering by. It wasn't Gigi, so she wasn't too interested in running out to greet them — but when she heard Lyric engage them, and when she heard talk of gifts, well!

The girl burst from the den and galloped toward the pair with her usual single-mindedness. Her eyes were fixed on the gifts, but she lost interest rather quickly. They didn't move or squeak, which meant that Hotah — who could both move and make noise — was instantly a more interesting prospect.

"I want to hunt," she asserted, looking at the male rather directly. One might glean that she meant this more as an order than a passing comment. A, take me hunting, now, or suffer the consequences.

But Carolina's attention span was fickle, and the consequence was this: Hotah quickly became the prey. Carolina tensed, adopting a stalking pose. Her target? The male's large paws and sturdy ankles.

Lyric wasn't yet a fan. He didn't know this guy - well he had seen him around, but that didn't matter. He didn't seem as cool as Trailhawk, who had bended to his whims. He was interested in the gifts, the easiest way to win him over.. until Carolina came out and showed no interest. It should have been a good thing, all of the hooves to himself! But she posed a far more interesting game.

He crouched next to her, whispering, though as most children do.. not so quietly that Hotah wouldn't be able to hear. I think he's an intruder. A sentence that meant: chase him with me!

It was a common ground for the two of them. Carolina liked to hunt and chase, and Lyric like to pretend anything with legs was an intruder. Since Lyric hated to be chased, it was often a game he would beg for his sister to join him in. Chasing, harassing, and occasionally nipping at adults, leafs, and animals who crossed their paths.

Hotah’s brows shot up, almond eyes going wide in mock alarm as the pair burst from the den like tiny storm fronts. He barely had time to set down the stag’s hooves before Carolina’s decree hit him square in the ears.
Oh-ho, he rumbled, tail swaying as he leaned into her serious stare, so it’s orders now, is it? Hunt, she says. I suppose I’d better obey before I lose an ankle—
And just like that, the girl dropped into her crouch, eyes fixed on his legs. Hotah gave a low, dramatic gasp, pulling his forepaws just out of reach as if she’d nearly snagged him already.
Not my paws! he protested, voice colored with laughter. These are prime hunter’s paws, irreplaceable!
Lyric’s whisper, loud enough to carry, drew Hotah’s gaze. He flattened his ears in exaggerated scandal, dropping into a half-crouch himself. Well then… you’d better catch me quick before I raid the den for all its treasures.
With that, the big dark wolf leapt sideways in a playful bound, hooves forgotten for the moment, inviting the pair’s chase with a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

His voice warbled and turned into meaningless song. As long as his tone remained friendly and playful, she didn't need to know the words being said, did she? Caro paid only slightly more attention to her brother's whisper — just enough to solidify the game that they were about to play.

Her vision narrowed on dark paws, following them with reptilian hunger as they were pulled out of range. The voices around her were muggy, like the distant rumble of thunder, and her blood began to sing in her veins.

It was a shock when the voices ended, and the wolf turned and began to flee... But not that much of a shock. That was what prey did, of course.

Caro did, then, as hunters must, and shot off like a lightning bolt in Hotah's wake. She was aware of Lyric in her periphery, and she kept one ear turned toward him, her partner in this hunt.

The big guy ran, and Carolina chased just as Lyric hoped. He followed in her charge, though much louder as he yipped and howled his victory in advance.

Emerald eyes locked onto the older wolf's tail, Lyric watching it move with a clear determination. Bite that thing.

Meanwhile, his own tail was wagging with pure joy behind him.

Ah! Hunters! he barked over his shoulder, feigning panic as he bounded across the clearing. Too quick, too clever—have mercy on an old wolf!
He slowed just enough to let Carolina nip close at his heel, hopping sideways at the last moment so that her teeth snapped at empty air. So close! he teased, his tail flagging high before dipping low again, a dark banner just within Lyric’s reach.
He gave it an extra wag—taunting, tempting—and sure enough, the boy’s green eyes locked on like a hawk. Hotah’s grin widened. You want it, little warrior? he goaded, dropping his chest low to the ground, rump in the air in a perfect play-bow. Then earn it.
With a playful growl, he lunged a few paces ahead, not too fast, not too far. He let their laughter fill the air, the sound of life and mischief echoing through the den’s edge.
Careful now! he called, glancing back with mock sternness. If you catch me—then you’re the one fetching dinner tonight!

Carolina was not an angry child, exactly — she was, when at rest, incredibly sweet and biddable. But she was not at rest when Hotah's ankle whipped just out of reach. She was in hunting mode, and when the kill was denied, she was filled with something rage-adjacent that fueled her little legs.

She pushed harder, beginning to cough in exertion, ready and willing to run herself to death to capture her prey. Like a dog pulling at the leash, desperate to run ahead of its owner, her will was greater than her lung capacity.