Redhawk Caldera There There

Maybe a @Towhee?

Raven saw to Whip's face after the war with Blackfeather, treating his wounds and severed ear with some mysterious salve that burned upon application. Now, Whip supposed he looked like a reflection of what he was on the inside; a monster. Disfigured and ugly -- a terrible thing. He kept his distance from the others and often hid his face. He couldn't help but wonder if it was the extent of his injuries or gaping wound to his pride that kept him away. He denied the latter, though he knew it to be true. Bested by the Blackfeather woman, he chided himself. Why couldn't he just kill her like he had the siren? Why couldn't it be that easy?

Despite his self-imposed seclusion from the rest of the pack, word of Towhee's rise reached Whip from the medic. The Caldera belonged to a Redhawk again and the legacy of his parents was restored. Upon hearing the news, Whip thought he should be happy to know that the pack belonged to his family once again, but he felt only jealousy. After all, he was the eldest remaining son of Peregrine and Fox. Of course, Whip kept these thoughts to himself, but they simmered under his skin silently.

It was with these thoughts in the back of his mind that Whip sought his sister.

No amount of chewing could remove the terrible device from around @Fiadh's throat—not without damaging the victim, anyway. There was a ripple of confusion, fear and wonder threading through the pack as a result of the alien apparatus's appearance, as well as the strange sights and sounds that had foreshadowed it. Towhee hadn't seen them for herself, nor heard them (obviously), though word on the street was that some large, dark objects had gone hurtling across the sky beforehand, making a horrible racket.

Her only consolation was the fact that the contraption didn't appear to be harming Fiadh directly, though it was cold comfort. Her insides were still roiling with apprehension as she roved around the borders, doing her best to pay attention to her surroundings but finding it difficult with the whirlwind inside her head. Eventually, she drew to a halt and heaved a great sigh, tipping her head backward to locate X drifting along above before she sidelined herself beneath the bare branches of an apple tree.

When the hawk dropped down in front of her with a silent whoosh, Towhee automatically looked over her shoulder, ears shifting as a familiar—if badly marred—face approached.