Redhawk Caldera Tretale.

She sprawled in a snowdrift overlooking the caldera, her aching leg pressed into the pack in the hopes of numbing it. Towhee rolled partly onto her back while she rested, wondering whether she might reach a point where she wanted to just chew off the damn thing. If @Phox could rock three legs and travel the world, there was no reason she couldn’t do the same damn thing.

Her mind drifted from her brother to her son. Bushtit had accompanied her to the caldera a couple days back but had wandered off yesterday. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t returned to her by nightfall. Nor had he appeared at breakfast. Towhee didn’t often wish she could hear, though it would be nice if she could call out to him just to know his position. If she had to guess, he’d probably gone south again. That kid was hooked on the lowlands.

Only he’s not much of a kid anymore, Towhee mumbled to herself. He’s the same age as Meerkat when she left me.

Those words hung on the frigid winter air, heard by absolutely no one. Towhee huffed out a sigh and rolled, deciding it was time to get back on her feet. She was sure Bushtit was fine—he was probably just hanging out with his dad, a phenomenon Towhee still hadn’t fully accepted—but she would feel better if she located her son.