Redhawk Caldera it's over.

many assumptions have been made. C'est la vie

Finley was beyond feeling when finally, after months, her tired feet brought her home to the Caldera. Her memories of her time away were a chaotic cry in her ears, but she ignored it with a cold strength she had always known herself to possess. She would not think of what had transpired. It didn't matter. She had gone. She had failed. Lucy was dead.

To her at least.

The Blackthorn knew the Caldera was her home - that there was no need to pause upon the borders like some useless stranger seeking refuge. This land was as much hers as it was Fox and Peregrine's. She had been the only one (that she remembered) to follow them. This was her home. And yet she stopped, and she stayed back from the borders as though she no longer belonged. Did she? Her heart was sick. Maybe not.

It didn't matter. Finley was tired and defeated. She wanted her life back. She wanted her mate, her twins, her needy son, her best friends. She wanted her normal back, or as much of it she could even have now that... She wouldn't think of it. Her eyes drifted up, and without making a sound, she waited.

cameo~! continues here

His situation had more or less stabilised. He had not eaten much, but about enough to suffice — he'd passed out another time, but it had been when he was alone and he hadn't told anyone. He knew that all he needed to do was to be happy again to make daddy happy and make everyone feel good, but somehow he just couldn't. He missed mommy so much, and the more unhappy he grew, the more guilt-racked he became. He wanted to be happy, he truly did, but he just was not, and for that he could not forgive himself.

Unaware of what was going on at the borders, Eljay lay at the densite and closed his eyes. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and he burried his face in his paws after, weary eyes looking up. That was when he realised that he was not sure he could go on. Mommy was clearly dead by now. And if she never could return, could he ever be happy again? And if he could not, then what was the use in trying? He had tried and failed, so far... Perhaps it would be easier to just give up, he realised, and Eljay felt immensely relieved as he realised this was an option and closed his eyes with another sigh — a more peaceful one this time — intending it to be for the last time, as it would surely not be too difficult to convince his malnourished body that it was time to go.

Raven remembered the day when her parents had declared it a requirement to become a mercenary of some sort. The details were fuzzy around the edges but she recalled the sinking of her stomach with nearly perfect clarity. Fortunately, it no longer appeared to be a prerequisite for life in the caldera. She was no fighter. She wanted to dedicate her life to healing, not harming, others. And she hated patrolling.

What she was doing now didn't count. It was so cold today that staying still simply wasn't an option. Raven just happened to be near the borders when she began her brisk walk. If she happened to squat every few hundred yards to refresh the border markings, well, that was no one's business but her own. She liked to think that if a guest or trespasser materialized, she would be able to handle it, yet the young Gamma made no promises, even to herself.

That was why she froze when she saw a silver figure up ahead. She licked her lips nervously, squinting. She then blinked, eyes suddenly widening. "Aunt Flea?" she whispered under her breath, yellow gaze tracking over the trademark stripe on her godmother's spine. "Aunt Flea!" she shouted a little more loudly, suddenly breaking into a gallop that carried her to the clearly careworn woman.

"Aunt Flea, are you okay?" Raven asked, forgetting to reintroduce herself. Without waiting for an answer, she sent up a loud cry for @Fox, @Elwood or @Eljay. As soon as it was issued, she focused on Finley again and asked, "Do you need food? Water? Anything?"

Elwood's eternal optimism had finally faded.

It had been a brutal two months -- two months of patrolling, waiting, and putting on a happy face for his family. And while the two youngest still seemed able to cope, Elwood had accepted the grim inevitability that it didn't seem that Finley or Lucy would return. He wasn't sure yet what his life would look like without them; he was still processing it, and no amount of Raven's poppy powder seemed to help.

He found it hard to set his paws in motion when Raven called for him, but he forced himself to move. The pace that took him towards the borders was slow and as his niece swam into view in the distance, he paused. Beyond her was a mirage, surely -- because it was undoubtedly Finley, but Elwood's mind couldn't reason how or why she was there.

Tentatively, he padded closer, yellow eyes narrowing then widening. "Finley," he murmured, then accelerated. He loped past Raven and beelined towards his mate, who looked tired, thin, and bedraggled, but his gaze drank her in gratefully. He paused just inches from her, searching her face with a whine before nudging her cheek with his nose. The absence of Lucy was painfully obvious and unnecessary to mention; instead, he pressed himself against her, hugging her close with the intention of never letting go.

Finley would have anticipated that Elwood or Peregrine would have been the first to find her there. Or perhaps Shrike. Maybe even Trick. But the wolf she saw coming her way was none of these, though she did momentarily believe that it was Peregrine. But the wolf's frame turned out to be far too delicate, and not nearly tall enough. She didn't know this girl - or at least, she didn't think that she did. Fin studied her with curiosity, her brow furrowing further when she heard the familiar moniker that only the alpha's kids had ever called her.

"Raven?" she said softly as the wayward Redhawk came nearer. It was the only explanation, but Finley was too stunned to accept it right away. A fleeting thought took her that immediately sombered what otherwise would have been excitement. Lucy might look like this one day. Finley would never know.

The former beta shook her head and pushed past the thought. She smiled faintly - a worn, tired upturn of one corner of her mouth that began to fade almost as soon as it had appeared. She was quiet as Raven howled for her family, anxiety broiling in her stomach as she realized the moment would soon come when she would see her mate and tell him she'd failed. She had thought she was defeated enough that it wouldn't matter as much to her, but that didn't seem to be the case.

Raven offered her food, and it took Finley a moment before she decided that yes, food would be good. She nodded and looked at her god daughter, still not fully able to properly react to the fact that she was home again. "Food would be good. Something small. Preferably not smelling like coyote," she requested with the smallest grimace. She'd stolen too much from other predators and it may well have just been in her, but their odor made their kills taste different.

Finley heard footsteps then and her attention was taken. He was there. Her heart clenched fiercely at the sight of him and all at once she felt more weak and broken than she had at any point during her adventure. He was running towards her, and she was inwardly struggling to pull the pieces of herself back together. It was fear, heartbreak, guilt, joy, and overwhelming relief when he touched her. She whimpered and melted against him while tears spilled from her eyes in a way that she had spent her entire journey back coaching herself not to do.

"I'm sorry," was all she could murmur as she buried her face into his fur and breathed him in. He smelled like home, and her kids. Family. It was wonderful, and it was terrible all at once.

"Yes," she said simply, "it's me. Welcome back, Aunt Flea." It was sort of strange, being on the other side of the coin. She had been the prodigal daughter not so long ago, after all. She tentatively pressed her muzzle to her aunt's chin in a brief display of affection and respect. "Everyone will be so happy to see you."

Although procuring food did not specifically fall under the purview of a medic, Raven knew it was crucial for restoring Finley's stamina after the fatigue of her travels. She didn't need to be asked twice. Nearly as soon as the request left her godmother's lips, the yearling nodded and pivoted on a lithe black heel, prepared to make a beeline to the nearest cache.

Elwood was closing in on his mate even as she bustled away to grab some sustenance. The Gamma offered him an encouraging smile and wave of her tail as they passed, then disappeared deeper into the territory.

Feel free to skip me. I'll toss her back in at some point. :)

Elwood hardly noticed Raven's departure; his attention was focused on Finley. The two words she spoke very nearly broke his heart. Her apology was not needed -- even though she hadn't been successful in tracking down Lucy, he still knew that she had given it her all. The fact that she had returned without the ink spot meant, perhaps, that things were out of their control -- that Lucy was no longer living; for how could a puppy of that age survive on her own for more than a couple of days? Despite his despair, he was strangely at ease, knowing that he and Finley both had done their best to try to find her.

"It's okay," he replied quietly, taking a step back to look over his mate. She was lean from endless travel and lack of food, and her fur had lost much of its luster. But she was there, and she was in one piece, and he couldn't have been more thankful. "I'm just glad you're back," Elwood added.

Like Elwood, Finley didn't notice much when Raven left to find her food. Her attention was engulfed by her mate and the flurry of emotion that spun inside of her at being reunited with him. In an instant, he had forgiven her and murmured his gratefulness that she'd come home. Fin knew she didn't deserve it, but she allowed the seconds to stretch in silence, simply wanting to enjoy the feeling of all being well with the world that that came upon her then.

"How are the kids?" Fin asked when finally she felt solid enough to pull away and remain standing on her own. Her mind went to Liffey and Lagan who she knew would be almost unrecognizable by now. And Eljay, how had he done these past weeks without her? She hoped fervently that helping take care of the twins had kept him strong, as she had the entire time she'd been away. She knew perfectly well how unlikely that was though.

Elwood felt a twinge at Finley's question. "The kids" now excluded Lucy -- because they didn't know where she was, or if she was even alive. Would he recognize her, if he passed her in the woods? It was hard to imagine her as the same age as Liffey and Lagan; she would forever be frozen in time as a little black ink spot of a puppy.

"Liffey and Lagan are good. Growing like weeds," he answered, a small smile tugging at his lips as he spoke of the twins. Their unique, individual personalities were becoming more apparent by the day. Eljay, on the other hand...Elwood faltered. He didn't want to make Finley feel guilty or responsible for their eldest son's poor mental state, but he knew that she would see for herself eventually. "Eljay's...hanging in there. He'll be glad you're back," he decided to say.

Liffey and Lagan. Her two little twins. Fin gave a teary-eyed smile at the thought of them. They were growing like weeds. She knew exactly how tall they would be now. She'd been surprised to see.. But that wasn't anything she would think about now. She wanted to see them, and Eljay.

Her mate was hesitant before telling her about Eljay. It didn't go unnoticed, and so her smile fell and she looked at Elwood's face with concern. Of course her eldest wasn't okay. She had never expected that he would be. She'd hoped that he might be able to understand why she'd gone. He loved his siblings so dearly - how could he not then understand that she couldn't have just let Lucy go without a fight? But when had sound reasoning ever done anything to ease Eljay's depression. And how could she have expected him to be able to come to these conclusions by himself. He had always needed her to see his way, but Fin had left him without bothering to even say good bye.

Fin swallowed her guilt, but wasn't quite able to squash her own fears and anxieties before asking, "Did the twins ever.. do they ask about me?" Did they notice she was gone? Would they remember her? Or would they run from her too.

Raven passed the nearest stockpile, as well as a few others, as she hastened to the rendezvous site and made a quick stop at the badger den. She snatched a few choice herbs from her modest collection, then galloped back toward the borders. She stopped at a cache on the way, taking the time to drag out a cold, stiff hare. She laid it out on the ground, then forcefully inserted the greenery into its mouth before plucking up the carcass and swiftly loping back toward Finley and Elwood.

She slowed as she approached, not wanting to disrupt their reunion. "Here's something to eat," she said after quietly depositing the carcass at her feet. "I stuffed it with some herbs that'll help with immunity and energy. Do you need anything else?" If not, Raven would retreat elsewhere and give her godparents their privacy.

He smiled faintly at Finley's question. Of course the twins had missed her, in their own ways. It had been amazing to see the way they coped with the situation. Neither had ever appeared outwardly sad -- at least, not in front of Elwood -- and life had carried on for them without skipping much of a beat. But he knew that they had thought often of their mother, and had even wondered aloud when she would be back.

"Of course they asked about you. They'll be so excited to see you," Elwood reassured Finley, just as Raven reappeared. He glanced at her as though seeing her for the first time, then his gaze found the bundle of meat and herbs at her feet. He offered her a grateful smile and a bob of his head, then shifted to move the food closer to Finley so that she could eat.

"Thanks, Rave," he said quietly, allowing Finley to decide for herself if she needed anything else from her niece.

Finley felt her heart catch in her throat at Elwood's answer. They had asked after her. They remembered her. They might even be happy to see her. She had missed so much of their childhood - two whole months out of the only nine they would ever have. It broke her heart, but she forced herself ot think on the bright side. At least she wouldn't miss anymore of them.

The former beta offered her mate a smile, but turned when a black shape appeared again. Raven had returned, and the scent of meat caused her stomach to flip. She swallowed dryly. It took all of her restraint to not lunge at the carcass after it was set down. Whatever the dark wolf said about herbs and things was lost on her as she freed meat from bones and gave her body much needed sustenance.

She had consumed nearly half the hare before she began to slow. Her eyes danced to the yearling's face and she gave a grateful smile. "Thank you, this is good," Fin glanced then to Elwood and her smile softened, "I have everything I need now." Finley then began to tear into the other half of the dead animal.

Her godparents both thanked her and Raven smiled in response, nodding her head. "I won't be far, in case you need anything else. We're all so happy you're home safe," the yearling said, touching her nose beneath Finley's eye, then turning and nudging Elwood's cheek too. She then retreated to give them space, staying within howling range just in case.

Elwood wasn't surprised when Finley almost immediately began to eat, filling her stomach with much-needed nourishment. He bobbed his head as Raven excused herself, promising to be nearby in case Finley needed anything else from her. The second part of her sentiment couldn't have been truer; for Elwood, just knowing that she was home safe filled him with a calmness he hadn't felt in months.

"Do you want to eat here, or take your meal back to the rendezvous site?" he asked, leaving the decision to Finley. He knew she was eager to see her children, but he considered that she might want to finish eating first, so that there would be nothing standing in the way of her reunion.

Finley smiled gratefully as Raven turned to depart. She blinked at Raven's touch and watched her thoughtfully as she left. Her eyes turned then to Elwood after a moment, considering his question. She shook her head before leaning down to eat more of the kill, "I'll finish here."  When she returned to the rendezvous site, she imagined her kids would be there. She wanted herself to be free of distractions when she saw them, not pushing them away so that she could finish the last few bites of rabbit.

"So Raven is back, huh?" Fin commented conversationally between bites, "Anything else happen while I was gone?" She pulled her lips back to dig with her front teeth into a piece of meat wedged between two bones. She tugged eagerly at it, intent on freeing every sliver of sustenance she could from the kill.

He nodded and settled onto his haunches, feeling more comfortable than he had in months. He watched Finley eat with a lopsided smile, affection radiating from his entire being. He would have been content to simply sit in silence until she was finished with her meal, but she lifted her head long enough to ask about Raven's recent reappearance.

"Yeah, turns out she got lost for a while. She's apparently got no sense of direction," Elwood replied with a chuckle. She had even gotten turned around after returning to the caldera, and Shrike had been the one to guide her home. As his former packmate's face flashed in his mind, his stomach dropped abruptly. "Anything else happen while I was gone?" Finley had asked, and Elwood realized that he was tasked with telling her about Peregrine and the fallout that had occurred in the wake of his death.

His expression sobered considerably and he looked away, studying a patch of dry grass at his feet. "Ah, well. Actually...Peregrine passed away. In his sleep. It was unexpected, and Fox took it pretty hard," he said, swallowing. He waited before informing her about Shrike, knowing that the news about Peregrine would break Finley's heart.

Finley snapped a leg bone between her teeth as Elwood spoke of Raven's terrible sense of direction. She thought of Wildfire and how her fiery goddaughter had become an outrider like her. Perhaps Wiffle had stolen all of the navigational skills of the trio. Maybe that was why Nightjar was gone now.

Actually... Peregrine passed away.

The bone dropped from her mouth as she heard the words. Fin glanced up towards her mate, her expression blank as she studied him. Peregrine passed away? For a moment she didn't understand, as though passing away could mean any number of things. Maybe he'd passed away his lunch to Fox because she'd been hungry. Or he'd passed away his dingaling into her no no spot.

But even as she considered, she knew. Peregrine was dead. Her best friend was dead.

"Oh," Fin replied, her expression empty, blank. Lost.

Elwood winced visibly as he awaited Finley's reaction. He fully expected her to fly off the handle, screaming and crying; after all, she was not one to attempt to hide her emotions. But although her eyes grew glassy, she seemed to be unable to register the information as fact. She uttered a single syllable in response, and that small, insignificant sound was as heartbreaking to Elwood as if she had begun crying to the heavens.

"I know..." he said quietly, lowering his gaze. He missed Peregrine a great deal, although he hadn't truly allowed himself to grieve. What with Shrike's exile, Fox's pregnancy, and now Finley's return, he had kept his mind busy. But his throat suddenly felt like it was closing, and he coughed. "Fox is pregnant, though. So at least Peregrine knocked her up before he went," he added with a wry half-smile.

Fin stared across the Caldera's terrain as Elwood spoke softly to her. The thought of Fox being pregnant brought the faintest of smiles twitching briefly across her muzzle. It somehow did make it better that he had knocked up his mate before he went. He would have wanted that. He was dead. There would be puppies soon. Raven had come home. Eljay, Liffey, Lagan. Fin's mind felt disconnected, as though there was a wide gap of space between each individual thought. They connected somewhere to each other, but she couldn't see the lines. They were just words and images. Peregrine was dead.

Finley could only nod to signify that she had heard the news. She stood after a beat, ignoring the remaining rabbit at her paws that she had been so determined to finish only moments before. She stepped towards Elwood, her ears sinking back as she reached to touch her nose to his in that familiar way they always had. She looked meekly down at her paws when the gesture was done before taking a breath and looking back at her mate's handsome face.

"Where are the kids?" Fin asked quietly. She was ready to see them. She needed to see them. Peregrine was dead and Fox was pregnant. And Finley had been gone far, far too long.

I'll archive. <3

She didn't say anything else about Peregrine, though Elwood could feel her sadness. He remained silent for the time being, simply allowing her to work through her emotions. If he let himself think about it too long, he would feel tears prick at the backs of his own eyes; not only had Finley just returned from an unsuccessful trip to find their daughter -- who was likely dead -- but she had been greeted with the news of her best friend's passing. Elwood bit his lip, then closed his eyes as Finley moved to close the gap between them and touched her nose to his.

Her next question was a welcome one. "The rendezvous site," Elwood replied, even as he stepped in that direction. He waited until Finley was shoulder-to-shoulder with him, and then he guided her slowly towards home.