Heron Lake Plateau A shadow moves, a renegade, all broken and bright.

Towhee listened to her sister's self-assessment, trying to suppress the smug smile that wanted to blossom on her face, or at least make it less self-congratulatory. She had been right to put Raven (and, by proxy, Quixote) in charge. Time had showed them that. And Towhee was rather enjoying life as second-in-command. It suited her better.

"I think you need to give yourselves more credit, Rave," she said. "I know you never aspired to lead, maybe never even considered yourself eligible. But look at you now. You've proved yourself wrong... and me right." Now she let that self-satisfied look take over her face, though only for a beat before her gaze grew more serious once more. "Truly, though, you've proved yourself the new matriarch of the Redhawks."

She glanced at the mouth of the den, then back to her sister and found herself musing aloud, "Won't Niamh be the first non-Blackthorn, non-Redhawk leader in... ever?" Towhee paged through the history book in her head. The pack had been founded by Peregrine and Fox, with Finley and Elwood quickly assuming the Beta roles. When their parents had passed away, their godparents had stepped up to the plate, pulling up Towhee eventually. "Maybe we should force her to take the Redhawk name, you know, for consistency's sake," she quipped.