Redhawk Caldera Don't tell me I'm fine

It was a blustery day, but that wasn't enough to keep Nightjar away from the borders. He plodded dutifully along them, as he did every single day, with his head up and his good ear twisted backward. The bad one, as always, hung to the side. It was a disadvantage, as he couldn't listen to his front and rear at the same time, but his eyes were sharp and his nose was good, so he relied on those while patrolling.

The land just outside the caldera was quiet, at least here on the western side. A porcupine ambled along in the plains not far away, but otherwise there was hardly a sign of life. It made for a boring day for Nightjar, but almost all his days were boring. He had yet to intercept a real threat, which was disappointing. His sisters were progressing in their respective trades while he just trudged along, every morning, and got nowhere.

But the disappointment was fleeting, at least, since action and the physical world always took over, and now there was the smell of a coyote on the wind, but no sign of it yet.

Sorry I'm hogging all your threads. I'll be power playing @Raven in here. :)

Wildfire stood on the lip of the territory's namesake crater, peering skyward. The weather had taken a turn for the worst the past few days, though there was nothing particularly worrisome about the recent weather patterns. The clouds weren't circling, nor were there any strange tinges to the horizon. She took a breath, then turned to climb downward toward the rendezvous site. She didn't stop there beyond a quick visit to her den/garden area; instead, she continued moving downhill, searching for a scent now.

She still hadn't found it when Raven trotted into view. "Hey! What're you doing?" the tall, dark girl asked. "Just... tracking," Wildfire replied evasively. She hadn't told her sister about her feelings for Ashton and their mother had promised to keep it a secret. For reasons she could not necessarily articulate, Wildfire considered Raven a threat. She felt a bit guilty about it but it was what it was. "You?" she returned before Raven could cotton onto her.

"Nothing, really. I was just looking for some herbs but I'm done now. I just saw Nightjar patrolling. Wanna go throw rocks at him?" Raven queried with a grin. It was funny because the pups all got on pretty well and would never do something like that to one another. "Come on," she added, not really giving Wildfire a chance to react to the invitation. She nipped at her smaller sister's rusty ruff, then motioned for her to follow in the direction of the borders.

Although Wildfire bit her lip as she pictured Ashton's face, she fell into step beside Raven, actually bypassing her once they reached level ground and zooming toward Nightjar in the distance. Long before she could reach her somewhat surly brother, however, she pulled a classic Wildfire, tripping over her own front feet and taking a hard tumble into the dirt.

The hair on the nape of his neck lifted involuntarily as Nightjar began to follow the scent of coyote on the breeze. There was no solid evidence on the ground that a coyote had been here, no scat, no footprints and no footpad scent, but the wind didn't lie. There was one nearby. Maybe it would cross the borders and maybe it wouldn't, but it was Nightjar's duty as a training warden to hunt it down and keep an eye on it, whatever it chose to do.

He stepped heavily along the trail, announcing his presence with sound alone in hopes it would deter the coyote from coming any nearer. He knew those beasts had sharp ears. Their eyes were not so good as a wolf's, though. How he knew that he didn't know, but he did. Perhaps it was ancestral, ingrained knowledge of how to deal with a competitor, or perhaps he'd just been born with an uncanny ability to know another creature's strengths and weaknesses. Nightjar wouldn't know the difference.

He had yet to find the coyote when a thwump on his right side drew his attention. Wringing back both ears, Nightjar turned with a growl to see what was going on, and caught first the flash of brilliant red as he focused on Wildfire, who was the cause of the sound judging by the fact she was face-down in the dirt. He almost chortled, but that's when he spotted Raven charging toward him.

Nightjar held no ill will toward his sisters except a sort of jealousy, but now he slicked back his ears and snarled a warning at her. There was a coyote here and he wasn't about to let his sisters get hurt... or take this opportunity from him, he thought briefly, but he pushed that jealousy aside and focused on the fact he would be saving them from harm. He would warn them back so he could deal with it himself. It was safest for them that way, he reasoned, and a lash of his tail would probably be enough to tell them he was being temperamental for a good reason: danger.

It was just a coyote, barely a threat to an adult wolf, but they were just pups with limited experience and he was the biggest and strongest of them, the most fit to take it on. That was what his stance and his behaviour said.

Like always, Wildfire stood up after her unceremonious tumble and brushed herself off. Raven arrived at her side and while she looked concerned, she also looked like she was holding back a laugh. "Go ahead," her smaller sister drawled, "I know I'm the biggest klutz on the—" It was only then that she realized Nightjar was speaking to them, using snarls, growls and body language to convey a message.

Wildfire lapsed into silence, her lips pressing together as she read him. There was some sort of danger lurking nearby. He might have been larger and nimbler on his feet, yet she was also a Warrior apprentice. If there was some sort of threat, she would help him face it. She displayed her intent with a quiet snort and a few flicks of her black tail, letting him know she intended to accompany him. Wildfire then took a few steps toward Nightjar, only to stop.

Raven was not a Warrior or Warden yet, so Wildfire was with her brother on this one: she should stay behind and let them deal with it. To complement Nightjar's silent message, she paused and looked over her shoulder. Although the smallest of the litter, she was actually the highest-ranked of the three. It was not a card she pulled often, almost ever, yet she did so now. She lifted her tail and motioned for the young medic to go back toward the inner caldera.

Only after the black youngster retreated did Wildfire face forward again, prowling toward Nightjar. She intuited that he might resent her for insisting on coming with him, yet she held her head high. This wasn't done to convey dominance—truthfully, she would likely defer to him if Nightjar ever sincerely deigned to prove his superiority—but a reminder that she was a capable, titled Warrior too and that she was small but mighty. Besides, they were wolves, pack animals, and two heads full of teeth were always better than one.

Raven complied with Nightjar's silent desire, primarily because Wildfire, the ringleader of their little trio, commanded her to do so with a flick of her snout. Yet the red-haired naturalist, the most petite of them, remained and even began to step toward him. Displeased with this, mostly because he didn't think this was a task that suited her and a little bit because he didn't want her to interfere with his one opportunity to let his talent shine as she had in the hours before the storm, Nightjar rumbled deep in his chest.

But she came on anyway, bold like she tended to be (at least around family), and Nightjar relented. His rumble choked off. Still, he fixed her with eyes that were heavy and serious and grumbled, "it's too dangerous." What made it too dangerous for her and not for him? His strength, for one. Wildfire was an accomplished young warrior as well, but she lacked his physicality. His instinct, for another. Hers was attuned to nature and plants and stuff, but his was completely wild, giving him an edge in this situation, or so he believed.

There was the matter of gender differences and the fact that Nightjar, being male, was probably inherently slightly better at physical pursuits... but that wasn't something he'd been raised to believe in. He could only hope that Wildfire would agree that it was too dangerous and let him do the work himself, both to save her the pain and to prove himself to the pack as she and Raven had.

Although Wildfire disagreed that it was too dangerous for her to tag along, she knew about her brother's protective streak and didn't take his opinion the wrong way. "If it's not too dangerous for you, it's not too dangerous for me," she said quietly, though she smiled and indulged him by adding, "How about you go ahead? I'll just keep watch and back you up if you need it. I'm sure you won't, NJ," she added. She had never felt any particular rivalry with either of her siblings and though she and Nightjar were occasionally competitive Warriors, she would sooner build up her brother's confidence and heed his wishes than be a total interference.

She took a step back, motioning for him to go ahead. She would hang back, keep an eye on things, and shadow Nightjar from a distance. Wildfire was humble enough to know she could learn things from by studying his technique and approach to a situation like this. But if it came to blows, she had the credentials to jump right in and assist.

Nightjar almost made a comment about how she was puny and he wasn't to counter her argument that the danger level was the same for both of them, but he faltered when she gave him the lead. Admittedly, the feral boy had no reason to believe his sister would snatch this opportunity from him—she'd never done it before—and that generosity alone made evident his jealousy. He wasn't ashamed or remorseful, but he softened just a little.

As indicated by Wildfire, Nightjar took the lead. He plodded on for seven minutes before pausing, and the whole time, his head was lifted and his eyes were focused forward. They only had a thin scent in the air to go by rather than signs of a coyote already being here, so they were now relying on their eyes. Well, he was anyway. His only good ear was fixated on his sister, so he was basically deaf up front, leaving only his nose and eyes to guide him. Luckily, Nightjar had incredible eyesight, like most wolves. And there, striding across the plains toward the caldera, was the very creature they sought.

Though slow on his feet and unlikely to catch the coyote, Nightjar lurched into a lumbering gallop anyway with a vicious growl building in his chest. He might not be able to catch it like he wanted to, but it would be stupid to not flee when two nearly grown wolves were clearly making a beeline for it.

Wildfire glanced over her shoulder to make sure Raven wasn't secretly shadowing them, then traipsed after her brother. She remained perhaps ten feet behind him, her amber eyes scanning their surroundings as she took turns sniffing the air and the ground. She definitely smelled coyote scat, though she wasn't sure of the source, at least not until Nightjar zeroed in on the prairie wolf itself and drew her attention to it by growling and lunging after it.

She sprinted after him, then remembered that he didn't want her getting directly involved unless necessary. Wildfire slowed only enough to avoid overtaking him, then swung wide around the coyote's position as her brother presumably initiated his attack.

The downward momentum gave Nightjar some speed, but it was guaranteed to die out when they reached the fast-approaching level ground. For now, though, he would enjoy the benefit of going downhill. His broad paws slapped the earth with loud thuds as he barreled onward, alerting the coyote to his presence. Its tapered head whipped up and around and there was no doubt it spotted both wolves: its body tightened visibly. Nightjar didn't care that it saw them, though. That was the whole point. 

His jaws were already yawning wide long before he could ever make contact with the lesser canine. The coyote wasn't about to stick around for a taste of those teeth, though. Almost as soon as it spotted them, it was scampering away well out of his range. Wildfire was arcing out to intercept it, presumably, and Nightjar just kept on lumbering. Whether they caught it or not, their charge served a singular purpose. Their aim was to get rid of it, one way or another, and he wouldn't stop until it was heading for the hills or hung limp in one of their mouths.

The coyote was giving them the slip and Wildfire glanced at Nightjar, wondering whether he cared if it got away or if he wanted to eliminate the threat entirely. There was no time to ask, so Wildfire went ahead and assumed her brother would prefer to kill the beast. Although not strong and not particularly graceful either, she suddenly shot after the smaller canine again, then passed it only to loop around and slingshot back in the opposite direction.

In doing so, she drove the coyote backward, toward her brother. It would probably dart to one side or the other, though Wildfire would keep repeating her shepherding tactics until Nightjar managed to get his teeth around their quarry's throat.

Nightjar's jaws were slack as he gave chase, slavering from both the effort of keeping up this pace and the anticipation of sinking his teeth into an enemy of the caldera. Whether or not he actually got to do that was irrelevant. Even if he failed to catch it, the coyote would think twice before approaching the territory of these wolves, and indeed, all other wolves, in the future.

He spotted Wildfire pulling ahead from his periphery. He didn't have the breath to snarl after her, though his heart squeezed at the thought that she would take this from him. That she would parade the glory. That's what Nightjar was most afraid of, maybe the only thing he was afraid of: that all his hard work would go unnoticed. That he was a warrior among warriors, and therefore as far from special or remarkable as he possibly could be. That his sister would surpass him by means of reputation.

But that jealous flare was always brief, and faded when Wildfire swung around to cut off the coyote. Now her intent was clearer. The coyote had the choice of doubling back toward the slower but stronger canine or trying its luck with the speedy small one. It was arrogant; it sidestepped in Nightjar's direction, not anticipating a surge of energy from the bulkier wolf to put him in line with itself.

But Nightjar found his second wind and did just that, and shoulder checked the coyote straight into the ground. It wasn't fatal for the lesser predator, but it would surely wind the smaller dog more than it would  wind him, giving one of the siblings an opportunity to thrash the life out of it.

Her strategy eventually paid off, giving Nightjar the chance to dart in and slam the coyote to the ground. Although she wanted to give him the honor of the kill, Wildfire quickly closed in too, snapping her small jaws at one of the creature's flailing legs. It managed to kick the side of her smudged muzzle once before she snatched it with her teeth. Cheek still smarting, she ground her fangs through flesh, blood and bone, breaking the leg with a loud snap!

The coyote bucked and squealed. She released her grip, spitting out a spray of its blood, retreating a yard or so to make it clear she intended for the Warden-in-training to make the final blow. She watched grimly from the sidelines, black tail twitching, prepared to assist again should the smaller canine somehow try to make an escape.

Both coyote and wolf smashed into the ground. The coyote's breath was cut off in a broken yip while Nightjar's rushed out of his lungs in a whoosh of air. Both of them lay still for a moment, but it was Nightjar that roused first; after all, he hadn't collapsed with the weight of a very large pup on his back. The coyote couldn't say the same, and now it was in mortal peril. It knew it, too; as soon as it could regain any of its strength, it began to kick and thrash, but Wildfire was already neutralizing it.

Nightjar almost—almost!—snarled and turned on his sister, so great was his worry that she would take his glory from him (since when had he cared about that, he might ask himself later, and he would realize it was his competitive nature more than anything), but she backed away in time for him to not feel the need. She took with her the coyote's ability to walk, with her dark snout dripping in its blood. The scent of blood was all he needed.

Nightjar threw himself over the flailing coyote and found its throat, and wasted no time in biting down so hard that its neck cracked under the pressure of his powerful jaws.

A dull crack announced the coyote's death. Wildfire plopped onto her haunches, panting from the exertion. "Good job," she said between breaths, offering him a grin. Their teamwork had paid off and they had eliminated a real threat. Their parents would be thrilled, she thought. At least two of their three children were bona fide natural-born killers.

"That was scary!" Wildfire looked up to see Raven trotting closer. "Is it dead?" she questioned tentatively, sliding past the bloody scene and settling beside her sister, yellow eyes fastened upon Nightjar and his kill. "Scary," she repeated, "but also pretty badass." She smirked faintly.

"Let's go show mom and dad. Think you can drag it back by yourself, NJ? I don't mind if you take most of the credit. You made the kill, after all," Wildfire said. Having finally caught her breath, she rose onto all fours again, bumping companionably against both siblings. "If you need help, let us know," she said to her brother before beginning to trot toward home with her siblings (and Nightjar's bloody prize) in tow.