Redhawk Caldera you are blood and earth, not theory and chalk

Sorry this is bad, it's really early in the morning, lol.

“It took Étoille and me four days to get here, without much snow in our way. Maybe five with more wolves and if it snows soon,” she pauses with a lift of both brows. They’d understand. There is a lot more at risk with the new season coming upon them. Not only did they have to worry about their crew going into war, they have to consider the entire other half of the pack and in winter, it’s worse. Perhaps if they’d been closer together, the barrier for communication can easily be torn down, but short of uprooting one of their entire packs to another territory for a few months doesn’t seem worth it, but almost.

If Redhawk Caldera had a better army, they could go to them now and get it over with. Her head is still hot for Cicero, just thinking of the things that had been done to her wife. She’d have enough fuel to get through all of them, she’s sure of it.

“We do not have to rush but we cannot sit on this,” she says, albeit strained. She has half a mind—the emotional, uncontrolled part they’d never quite squashed out of her in her training as fos goufa—to go now and search for the culprit herself. “I want nothing more than to get rid of their blemish here, but Wildfire is safe now, and we have to be ready going into war,” she explains. They have to be focused and ready to face whatever happens, whatever their skill may be in this. She hopes she doesn’t have to explain the struggle and loss with battle, should it come to that. “I do not know this land that well, or how the weather fares in the winter, but when the time comes, Drageda will be ready. If it is not now that we go, you just need to get word to us.”

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