Redhawk Caldera The best ever death metal band out of Denton

Fox, with all her righteous fury, soon fell silent. Peregrine on the other hand, continued to beg Whip to communicate -- or at least give some sort of reason for why he had done this. Truthfully, Whip could do neither in the moment. He felt like he was trapped in a fog, unable to collect any shred of coherent thought. "I just— I just—" sputtered Whip as he tried to tell his father something. Nevertheless, what he was left with was nothing. Whip began to sob and his words were drowned in a maelstrom of tears.

All the emotions he had suppressed after Peter's death; grief, fear, uncertainty -- they all welled up with a surprising intensity. Whip shut his eyes tightly, feeling as if he would be swept away on another wave of tears. He went straight to his father's embrace, burying his face into the scruff of his neck as he completely fucking lost it.