Redhawk Caldera know your roots

For @Wildfire, @Nightjar, and @Raven. This is one of the "history" threads I talked about awhile back! Optional, but I'll start the next round in 3-4 days (unless replies come in quicker, of course).

If Fox had thought the kids were growing a couple of months ago, it was nothing to how they were growing now. She swore they grew inches every night, and she fully expected Nightjar to surpass her sooner rather than later. Actually, it looked as though Wildfire was the only pup in her first litter that wouldn't tower over her. Raven might not have been as stocky as her brother, but she was definitely long in the legs. All three of them were, of course, perfect specimens in Fox's mind. Nightjar and Wildfire were already well on their way to becoming upstanding adults, and Raven wasn't far behind.

The sun was approximately an hour from settling on the horizon when Fox howled for her children. It was time that they learned of their roots. Not only from Fox's side, but from Peregrine's as well. Fox didn't know quite as much about his side of the family, but she thought he'd filled her in on enough that she could wing (haha, birds) it. As for her own, there were plenty of traditions that she wanted to tell the children about that simply hadn't come up in their day-to-day conversations.

Wildfire was not consciously aware of her own growth. At least, she hadn't been until today, when she had walked right into a low-hanging tree branch that she'd thought was too high to be of concern. It had scraped right beneath her right eye, leaving the flesh stinging and bleeding lightly. Before she could consider summoning Raven to have a look at it, Fox's howl rose up into the evening air. Shooting the offending tree a baleful look—how dare nature betray her, the Naturalist—Wildfire turned and began to trot to heed the Alpha female's call.

"Hi, mama," the middle child greeted when she trotted up to Fox. She bumped her dam beneath her chin, offering a submissive nibble. Her black tail hung low, wiggling. "Why'd you call us? Story time?" she guessed, folding herself into a seated position with her paws primly tucked in front of her. "I have a story about a tree that attacked me!" she quipped, indicating her scrape by squinting her eye and poking her tongue toward it.

Like Wildfire, Raven was not really mindful of her own growth.  She was growing like a weed, though.  Exceedingly long and gangly legs made for fast but awkward movement, and she frequently tripped over her own gigantic paws and faceplanted.  Moments like that made her grateful she kept to herself most of the time.  The sooty charcoal tones of her puppy coat were now almost entirely replaced by sleek blackness, and her eyes were fully gold as well.  Her own appearance wasn't something she thought about or noticed, however, until her parents or a packmate commented on how quickly it was changing.  

In a break from her usual routine, Raven was taking a breather from her medicinal pursuits in favor of practicing some of the "wardening" skills her mother had taught her.  She hadn't yet visited the borderlands of their territory, but she was quite meticulous in making sure that anyone who got this far into their packlands knew they were claimed.  She had just squatted for the umpteenth piss when she heard her mother's musical howl rise on the evening air.  An alpha's song was a beautiful thing, stirring passions and instincts inside her subordinates -- even the children -- and beckoning them to follow.  Raven did not resist its pull, moving quickly to obey the summons.

She arrived just in time to hear Wifi say something about a tree attacking her.  She grinned at her sister's words, greeted her mom with kisses and tail wags, and then sat down alongside Wildfire.  Only then did she notice the scrape on her sibling's face.  "Want me to clean that for you?"

Wildfire was the first to arrive, which wasn't surprising. She was more like Fox every day, and that wild spirit of hers went right along with it. Fox scarcely noticed the cuts and bruises that the children acquired through their daily adventures. Kids were meant to get a little beat up. Fox had certainly done as much when she was a child, and she was glad to see that it hadn't changed for her own children. "Yep, story time!" she replied, giving Wildfire a big, toothy smile.

Raven arrived next, which was a pleasant surprise. Usually, Nightjar was right behind Wildfire (or, on rare occasions, before her). She sat alongside her sister after a brief greeting, and Fox pricked forward an ear. Perhaps Nightjar would show up soon, leaving them some time to hear Wildfire's story. "Why don't you go first, little Dhole? Tell us all about the tree while we see if Nightjar shows up," Fox requested, tail idly flopping back and forth as she listened. It was entirely possible that Jar was out with Njal or his father, working on his wardening and/or warrior skills. "It'll give Raven a second to help you with that cut, too." Rave's interest in healing had not gone unnoticed by Fox, of course.

Nightjar's legs couldn't carry him fast enough. Like a few times prior, the aspiring Warden and apprentice Warrior had snuck off to the borders, putting him well outside of Fox's immediate range. He heard her howl, but his trek to her was long. He went as quickly as he could (not very quickly), but even so, he arrived in the middle of Wildfire's story.

He sidled up to Fox and lapped at her chin without really tuning in to Wifi's story at all aside from acknowledging that she was telling them something. Even if he had been listening, Nightjar wouldn't have been able to make heads or tails of it, having missed the beginning. He brushed alongside Raven as well, tilting his jaw to nip at her ear, before flopping down on his side on the ground. His silver eyes focused on Wifi then, and though he didn't have all the information to comprehend the rest of her story, he did give her his attention while he rested.

Although Wildfire would normally happily submit to Raven's medical ministrations, she shook her head lightly at her sister's question. "Nah, it's just a teeny scratch," she assured both her mother and sibling with a light shake of her head. She didn't want to delay story time over a mere flesh wound!

Fox invited her to share the tale of the evil tree while they waited for Nightjar to hurry up and get his furry butt to the rendezvous site. "Oh, um." She didn't actually have a story and, despite her dam's talent for chronicling, the youngster was not so imaginative that she could pop out a story on the spot like this. "I just rammed into it 'cause I'm taller than I thought... but not as tall as Rave or NJ!" she finished even as the boy galloped into view and flopped down nearby.

Wildfire tiptoed to stand over him. "You missed my story about the evil tree. Look what it did to me," she told him, thrusting out her scraped cheek. She then flopped down onto her hip beside him, her amber eyes resting on Fox's face as she gave every indication that she was ready to listen to her mother's stories now.

Wildfire told her (very short) story about a tree. Had to start somewhere, right? Not two heartbeats later, Nightjar lumbered into the clearing, and Fox's ears perked up. He lapped at her chin, to which Fox licked his ear. Now that they had all settled down, Fox took a moment to collect herself and remember what she had planned on telling them: the origin stories of herself and Peregrine.

"I wanted to tell you guys a little about where Dud and I come from. I'm from the east," Fox said, pointing her snout in the direction opposite of where the sun currently hovered above the horizon. "My father's pack is quite large, and all the boys' last names are Crestwood. Girls—like me—don't get last names until we've shacked up with somebody. In my case, I got your Dud's last name. The children in my family are named after whatever animal we look like... but not until we've been around for awhile. It's why my name is Fox, and it's why I call Wildfire 'Dhole' a lot. Old habits die hard, I guess." She shot Dhole a little grin, wondering if she'd known where the word had come from. Fox honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever explained it.

There, Fox stopped, letting the information soak in and giving them a chance to react. Provided there weren't too many questions, she'd move on to talking about Peregrine's origins.

Wildfire told an extremely condensed version of her story. Nightjar craned his neck to peer at the angry scrape on her cheek, but before he could do something about it, like lick it, Fox launched into her own story. Nightjar's attention went to the alpha female. He did his best to listen attentively, but by the end his mind was beginning to wander, specifically to things happening around him: the wind rustling the leaves, the smell of rabbit dung on the air, and the itch of an ant crawling over one of his toes.

Still, he caught on to some things, and recognized that some of those things didn't make sense for his own family. So he unabashedly asked, "how come Wifi and Raven have last names? They're girls." This was, perhaps, the only thing he really noticed. The animal naming scheme was news to him, probably because most of the animals were completely unfamiliar to him. He'd heard Wildfire's nickname before, but without having the foggiest idea of what a dhole was (and having no way to ever find out), he'd assumed it came from somewhere else. Similarly, Nightjar didn't really know what his namesake was. Evidently they were animals, but the only one that Nightjar recognized was Raven's namesake, since up until now he had not encountered a fox and known its name, either.

Wildfire wasn't as easily distracted as her brother, though when a passing bumblebee bumped into her, she flinched and then wriggled her nose at it. She didn't trust bees much. Her amber eyes narrowed, tracking its movements, even as her large ears tilted toward her mother's voice. Only when the bee drifted away and Fox mentioned her by name did the pup's gaze return to her mother's face. Her tongue lolled out in a grin, pleased that she had featured a role in her mother's tale.

Like her brother, Wildfire was curious about her surname. She also wondered what a nightjar and dhole were, since she had never seen either (to her knowledge). But before she could ask, her brother asked for her. She nodded as if to corroborate his inquiry, then licked her lips. She cocked her head for Fox's explanation when another, related question popped into her head.

"And how come we have middle names too? Dud said I'm called Attica after his brother." She knew that part, though not why she and Raven had middle name and their brother didn't. "What is Rave's middle name again?" she added, glancing at her sister a bit sheepishly.

Nightjar made an observation, to which Fox smiled. "Because we don't live where I grew up," she explained simply. "Dud's family gave everybody last names, so we decided to follow that tradition. We wanted our traditions to be a mix of both mine and his." Fox had been rather resistant to the idea of changing her ways, but she'd eventually come around and given Peregrine some leeway. It was still hard, at times, to remember that having complete control wasn't really fair to him. Not that she'd even been hung-up on being fair to everybody in the world.

Dhole chimed in next, asking about middle names. Specifically Raven's. Fox couldn't actually recall if she'd told Raven about her middle name or not, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to repeat herself if she had. "Raven's middle name comes from a dear friend of mine that died before you were born," Fox replied. Death was nothing new to any of the children, and Fox saw no reason to hide such things from them. "His name was Haunter, but I chopped the name half-off because 'Raven Haunter' was a bit of a mouthful." Add in the hyphenated last name, and it was a real tongue-twister.

"I don't know as much about Dud's family, but I do know that one of his brothers is very mean, and most of his family is named after birds. The mean brother kicked him out for some reason, and that's why Dud ended up here, with me." That was a very, very short version of the story, but considering Fox didn't know a lot of the details, it would have to do.

Fox fielded her children's questions with patience. The quip about Haunter vs. Haunt caused Wildfire to giggle. "Do you haunt ravens?" she playfully teased her sister, batting gently at Raven's shoulder. "You're supposed to hunt them," Wildfire added, feeling quite clever.

The mention of her father's mean brother recaptured her attention. Wildfire's head cocked. It wasn't Atticus, was it? It couldn't be. Why would Peregrine name her after his brother if he was mean? For that matter, how many brothers did her dad have? She imagined he had many, just like Fox had many sisters. Maybe that's just how it worked: dads had lots of brothers and moms had lots of sisters.

She pondered this until Fox wrapped up the brief tale, prompting the middle child to question, "Isn't Nightjar a kind of bird? Is a dhole a kind of bird too?" If her brother and sister were named after birds, then she was too, right?

He didn't get it. Well, he didn't get a lot of things. "What's a tradishooon?" was an example of him not getting one of those things. That word had come up a few times but it took him that long to really figure out that he had no idea what it meant. He listened while Fox explained Peregrine's origins. They weren't very interesting, though he did briefly wonder what made brothers mean. He wasn't a mean brother, or at least he didn't think he was. Maybe he was a mean brother and didn't know it.

When Wildfire spoke, Nightjar shot her a skeptical look and asked, "how d'you know?" She's a naturalist, was the obvious answer, but it didn't cross his mind that she might know more than him about something. Everyone knew more than Nightjar about everything except maybe instinctual things, and Nightjar knew the adults knew more about everything, but it was shocking (to him and nobody else) that his sisters knew more than he did about anything, and so he waited with a perplexed expression for a magical answer about how Wildfire could possibly be more observant and learned than him, the literal dunce.

Speaking to the children had always been amusing, and they continued to ask questions. Wildfire shot off one about ravens and birds, while Nightjar seemed to lack certain vocabulary. To be fair, Fox talked to them as if they were adults, expecting them to just know what she was talking about. That wasn't always the case, which, of course, led to questions.

"Raven can haunt—or hunt—all the ravens she'd like to," Fox replied with a grin. "And a nightjar is a kind of bird. A teeny tiny bird with brown feathers." Nightjar the wolf didn't mirror the bird in size, but he certainly did in appearance with his varying shades of brown, black, and occasional white. "And a dhole is kind of like a wolf, but smaller. They have red fur. I've never seen one, but I've heard about them, so I just have to assume that's true."

"A tradition," Fox replied, emphasizing the pronunciation of the word, "is something every wolf in a family does. So it's our tradition for you to sit and listen to me tell stories." And hopefully, that would answer all of their questions (at least for now). "Come on," Fox said, getting to her feet and herding the children, "let's go get some water before the sun disappears."

Although Wildfire was slightly disappointed that she wasn't named for a bird like the rest of her family, it wasn't that bad being named after a wolf. A dhole sounded a bit like a fox or coyote and the child wondered how many variations of canines existed. And were wolves the largest of them or was there something even bigger out there?

Fox beckoned her children to follow her for a last drink before bedtime. "The sun gave us water, right?" Wildfire chirped as she trotted after her mother, hearkening back to one of their previous story times. "And he's going away soon 'cause he doesn't want to see the moon 'cause they are in a fight! Hey, did the sun put the dholes on the earth, like the wolves?" She chattered away in a way she only did with her closest loved ones even as they headed off into the distance.

Fox's explanation that a nightjar was a teeny tiny bird made the wolf Nightjar's brow furrow. He certainly wasn't teeny tiny. He was dumb about a lot of things but his size was one thing he inherently understood. Before he could even think to ask about it, his mother was explaining traditions and the question slipped out of his head.

When invited for a drink, the brain-weary Nightjar clambered to his feet and followed readily. Wildfire continued shooting off questions for Fox while Raven remained silent, haunting them like her middle name suggested. Nightjar fell in beside his tall and dark sister, giving Fox and her lookalike child some space to talk while he lost himself in the action of walking, smelling, hearing and seeing the world as they went.