Redhawk Caldera style of eye
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#1
Here's some photos for reference. She's inside RHC. :)

Junior had fully intended to honor her snarky promise to Fox, yet when she'd come across a fissure in the mountain's flank and crept into it, she had completely forgotten to make herself scarce. Not only had she stayed past morning, she had lingered in the hidden caves for several days now, exploring the phenomenal subterranean landscapes. Did her dad and his mate even know what was down here?

Finally, hunger drove Junior back to the surface and she emerged, eyes watering in the sunlight. She was greeted by her father's powerful scent markers. Her mouth went dry. Fox was probably right that Peregrine would chase her away. She definitely wasn't part of this new pack. Pursing her lips, the juvenile slipped from the crevice and began to creep down the mountainside, hoping to make it to the borders undiscovered and unmolested.
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#2
I promise, I tried not to join >.>

"God damnit!" he erupted, skidding to a stop just over the burrow his supposed catch had just vanished into. This had been a complete waste. He'd rocketed over completely fresh scent markers in favor of food—thus was the desperation of a loner—and now he was digging frantically, futilely into a pre-established hole, no meal to speak of.

When all he could taste and scent was dirt, the shabby young male pulled himself out of the shallow ground and began to pace momentarily, whining over his loss. His belly rumbled anxiously, and the lanky DeMonte took longer than he should have to remember he was trespassing. This was unfortunately a common occurrence for the foolish teen, but he'd always proved innocent enough to escape conflict, if not fast enough.

Remembering his shout, which surely could've attracted trouble, the dusty wolf began loping quickly towards the direction from whence he had come, when movement caught the corner of his brown eye.

Immediately he was on edge. He didn't belong here, but the other youth's scent wasn't exactly too different from his own vagabond musk, so it gave him due pause as they noticed one another. "You're a trespasser!" he said in loud excitement, trying to relate but somehow sounding vaguely accusing.
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#3
Hey hey! :D

Her toes touched more even ground near the base of the caldera when a masculine voice shouted, "You're a trespasser!" The skulking youngster nearly jumped out of her skin. Whirling, she instinctively bared her teeth, though she relaxed slightly when her eyes clapped upon a white stranger. He didn't seem prepared to tear out her throat or otherwise assault her for her alleged crime of trespassing.

"Can I really be considered a trespasser when this isn't even a real pack yet?" she asked with a touch of sarcasm. "Are you part of the wannabe pack?" Junior asked in the next breath, tail switching to and fro.
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#4
Her initial words was news to him. He didn't think he'd ever passed scent markers like these that didn't delineate to a pack of some sort. But then again... he had not been alive for very long. "Naw," he said casually now, accenting this with a careless shrug. "I'm a trespasser too. Just, y'know, lettin' you know we're up shit-creek together."

Wood-brown eyes shifted to their surroundings. It was presently still just the two of them, and Snowl quickly forgot that he should probably making a quick exit. Besides, it interested him that this slightly younger female wasn't apart of this formation, yet smelled vaguely familiar when compared to the strong scents that enclosed it. "So wha'cha mean this isn't a real pack? This place up for grabs or what?—because I could totally be an Alpha right now. I'm super ready for all that ruling an' shit."
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#5
Junior's lips twitched, though she suppressed an urge to laugh. She managed to arrange her features into a poker face, though her eyes glimmered with interest when the white male spoke. He wanted to know what she meant. Although not always the forthright sort, Junior had no problem divulging the facts in this particular instance.

"Not exactly, so calm your tits, Mr. Wannabe Alpha. My dad and his little homewrecker are moving in. They haven't gotten around to formally establishing a pack here yet but they're working on it, I guess." She shrugged, trying to look and sound uninterested. "They're calling it Redbird Cauldron or something like that," she added, purposely bungling the name.

"Anyway," she said in a tone that indicated she was quite ready to move onto another topic, "I'm, uh, Junior." With the backstory she'd already given, it didn't make much sense to give an alias, so he got her real name. Feel special, she thought. "Who are you?"
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#6
He snorted slightly, though her short and vague story was interesting if nothing else. Snowl was particularly interested in the "homewrecker" bit, being a connoisseur of scandalous variety, but the dark-furred teen did not give him the opportunity to press her about it. He met her mis-matched eyes as she introduced herself, and he smirked slightly.

"Junior, eh? My oldest sister is a Junior—who's ya senior?" His mind was still on the inappropriate topic of Redbird Cauldron's exact conception, but even the spiky, dirty brat knew better than to press someone for information they weren't keen on retelling. "Snow Owl," he responded, well past the days where he loathed his soft, fluffy name. "Shorten it to Snow, Owl, Mr. Sexy-as-Hell.. whatever," he shrugged. "My pops called me Snowl, though. You can call me that."
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#7
The news about a fellow Junior piqued her interest, though she was careful not to look overly enthused. "Who says I have a Senior?" she shot back, though in the next breath, she allowed, "It's Osprey Jr., though I really don't go by Osprey at all. I'm named for my aunt."

Junior rolled her two-toned eyes when he introduced himself, though just as the mention of his sister's name interested her, so did his own moniker. "Owl, huh? My grandma's name was Owl. Something Owl. I forget. I think it started with an 'M.' I never met her or anything; she died before I was even born."

While that was all very interesting and whatnot, Junior suddenly pointed out, "We're still lingering on technically claimed land. We can either keep tempting fate or head for the borders. Your call, Snowl." His name came out a bit sarcastically and she gave him a challenging look, wondering if he would prove to be the smart or daring type.
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#8
His mouth was open to protest, that unless her name was strangely just Junior, she had to have a senior; but she was quick to appease him with an actual answer. He was interested to hear that she was named after a bird like himself, but the words about her aunt and grandma just gave him the idea that this was a family trend whilst he only had a couple family members named after the winged beasts.

He also couldn't make the connection of her grandmother to his father, considering that Tricasse had never told his son why his name was his name—he hadn't wanted the news to get back to Snowl's mother for any reason. "So, you're just a bunch of bird-wolves then. That's cool, I guess."

Snowl caught the challenge in her voice, and his impish face grew gravely mischievous. "Oh, I dunno, O.J.," he teased. "I kinda remember you sayin' this spot wasn't formal, just a rag-tag team tryna set up camp, so I think we're cool checkin' out their digs." He quirked a brow at her, pausing. "Only if you're any good at sneaking, though. I can't have you blowing our cover, when I'm damn near a full-blown spy."

Laughing, he chose their direction, spindly legs taking hem north. "So what's our story if we get caught? 'Specially by your dad."
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#9
She almost protested the nickname, her mouth even opening and her lips forming a protest. Yet she clapped her mouth shut in the next instant when she realized she sort of liked it. Junior vaguely remembered her family members calling her by this nickname when she was younger, yet that had probably stopped when she'd started insisting everyone call her primarily Junior.

"A spy, huh? Is that like a formal trade? I'm a Warrior and Outrider apprentice," she announced with an upward tip of her chin. No matter what changed in her life — her name, her pack, her scenery — she would never fail to be proud of these achievements.

Snowl began leading her way toward the north and Junior picked up her feet and trotted after him, saying, "We don't need a story 'cause we won't get caught." After all, it was only her father and his currently invalid mate. They couldn't possibly canvas the entire caldera. It was rather massive, after all.

"But what's your story?" she demanded in the next breath, weaving around a deadfall tangled against the mount's base.
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#10
"No. Spying is boring. Gotta be quiet too much," he shrugged, but tipped his head at her proudly raised chin, his brow and muzzle crinkled in confusion. "The fuck's an Outrider?"

He smirked at her certainty, nodding slightly as his tail picked up a pace and swayed just above his haunches. It felt nice having a bold companion at his side, as opposed to being the general leader in troublemaking, or simply being alone as he usually was. "My story?" he echoed casually, feigning a thoughtful look before decidedly elaborating. "Well, I got two sisters and twenty-nine half-sisters. I'm the only boy my dad ever had, so yeah, I'm kind of a big deal." Full of himself, was more like, but Tricasse had raised him to be proud, considering his own personal happiness at finally having a son.

"I never met any of them but I know all their names by heart—my dad was a super huge slut, y'know?—but anyways, he was leaving my mom and my sisters one time to go see some of his other daughters, and I..." he began to hesitate. His father's death wasn't a difficult subject to discuss anymore, Snowl accepted that it was his fault, but he rarely wanted to admit it. "Well, I followed like a idiot and got caught by a fuckin' mountain lion." He motioned towards his presented shoulder and the old claw marks that raked them.

The pale youth shrugged and pressed on in a voice that suggested he was tired of telling this story. "My dad saved me... but when I woke up, he had died, and then it stormed for three days and I got turned around and lost or whatever, so I just never went back home."
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#11
Junior listened with a quirked brow as Snowl regaled her, thinking to herself, Well, that escalated quickly. She didn't comment aloud, not wanting to interrupt him. His story was so juicy that she didn't want to miss any of the dramatic details.

"That's the most dramatic backstory I've ever heard," she told him once he finished, peering closely at his face. Snowl seemed unperturbed by the gruesomely tragic tale. Perhaps a lot of time had passed. "Do you actually have thirty-one sisters or is that an exaggeration?" she wanted to know next.

Before her impromptu companion could answer her, Junior stumbled over something and nearly face-planted. Although she managed to avoid this, she looked down to find her left forepaw twisted and caught in a fissure in the earth. She frowned thoughtfully and wiggled her foot, eventually freeing it. The joint ached a little when she moved it, though.

"That's another thing I miss, along with the food," she muttered to herself. "I totes took Aunt Willow for granted."
<font style="color: red; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: 9px;">Warning</font> <br> <font style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; letter-spacing: .5px; font-size: 11px;">Snowl has a very profane mouth—please read his posts <i>at your own risk</i>.</font>
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#12
"Really? And that was the incredibly downplayed version," he smirked lightly, though the memories that had been brought to the forefront of his mind weakened the expression considerably. She asked about his sisters, none of whom (except his own littermates) he'd actually had the chance to have met before he was coherent. Some of them had visited at his birth, but he didn't remember this of course, and Tricasse had often promised that when he was old enough, he'd take Snowl to meet them all.

He opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly Junior dipped from the corner of his eye, stumbling as her foot became trapped in a thick crack in the earth. He paused and leaned slightly to help her, but she wriggled her own paw free, and he stood back to watch her. "Yeah, being a loner sucks. I miss my mom, as lame as it is to admit. But whatever," he gave a dismissing shrug. "Is your Aunt Willow a medic?" The extent of his knowledge for treating wounds was the use of his tongue, which he graciously offered. "I could massage your paw with my tongue if it hurts...?"

He waited for her to accept or decline before answering the question posed beforehand. "Yeah though, that was a serious number. My pops made sure I know all of their names and in order from oldest to youngest. Me and my litter-sisses are the youngest of them all though."
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#13
"Yeah," Junior replied, "she's a Healer. She's really good at it too," she said, feeling an overwhelming sense of fond nostalgia wash over her. Her gaze became distant for a second before his offer earned a sharp glance. "No thanks, I'm fine." She shook her head at him, then laughed despite herself. "Keep your tongue to yourself."

"I gotta hear this," Junior said in the next beat when Snowl declared he knew their names in order of their birth. She pricked her ears, waiting, and was accordingly impressed when he recited all thirty-one names. In fact, that was the impression Snowl left her with when eventually they parted ways a short time later: one of unexpected and somewhat reluctant admiration.