Redhawk Caldera This universe can be so many things, and sometimes it is poetic.

Towhee explained her plans for her new feathered friend, and Fin couldn't help but stare rather skeptically at said feathered friend. "Looks more brown, if you ask me..." Fin muttered quietly, taking some advantage of Towhee's disability. She had never been particularly spiritual; she didn't believe in fate and didn't see any deeper meaning in what others might call signs, and so the fact that this bird's species was technically the same as her niece's last name didn't strike her as a reason not to kill and eat it. Her ancestors actually had believed in consuming that which might make them stronger - not that this notion held any sway over her personal opinions either.

But, Fin was willing to shrug it all off. The hawk could barely fly at this point and perhaps her niece actually would manage to train it to be an advantage to them. She doubted it, but it wasn't actually hurting anything at this point. As long as Towhee shared only her own food with it, the alpha saw no reason to object. Yet. She gave a curious glance to the sticks at her goddaughter's paws, ignorant of the fact that they drew an X upon the yellowing grass. "Well, it had to happen sooner or later - you moving into a nest," she answered with a sigh, "That was the risk we took the day that we named you after a bird." Fin paused before looking right at Towhee and adding, "Blame Raven." She still wasn't entirely sure which birds were towhees. As a general rule, she just called them all sparrows.