Redhawk Caldera Brass knuckles are brass knuckles.

She hadn't found @Raven upon returning to the caldera, so Towhee carried the hawk to a safe, quiet space beneath an overhang to spend the night. She must have said, "I won't hurt you..." two dozen times as she attempted to coax the bird into letting her curl around him to keep him warm. Instead, he squatted by her tail, puffed up his feathers and tucked his head over his bent, broken wing. Towhee peered at him a few moments, then sighed and put her head on her outstretched forelegs.

When she woke the next morning, she found herself choking on warm, downy feathers. Spluttering, she sat up to find the hawk hunched beside her face, though he quickly hopped aside as she rose. They stared at one another for a beat, then Towhee climbed to all fours and gave her pelt a shake. "Told you I wasn't going to hurt you. I'm not. Now come—" she began to say, only for the hawk to awkwardly flap his one good wing, spring into the air and resume his perch on her shoulder.

"Mmkay," was her only other comment as she ducked out from beneath the overhang and began making her way to the rendezvous site. Raven was probably there, sleeping or maybe fetching some breakfast with the pups. Towhee thought that taking the hawk around them seemed like a bad idea all around, so instead she made her way to the badger den near the far edge of the clearing, where the caregiver kept her supplies.

After dipping into a sphinx-like position so the hawk could bounce off her more easily, Towhee straightened up and unleashed an ungodly howl for her elder sister.