Hideaway Strath If I look back, I am lost.

I'll set this on 6/8.

There was a saying: "love is blind." Towhee's singular love for her brother and their children had given her tunnel vision. In the days following their departure from the Redhawks, she grappled with anxieties, misgivings, nightmares and regrets; aside from the joy she took in her little family's company, there was nary a hint of excitement or joy about this new venture. She felt absolutely ill with it.

But what choice did she have but to shove it all behind her, forcefully, and move on along the path she had chosen, however blindly? By rote, she performed the duties expected of her as a founding member of this new pack. Any time her thoughts drifted back to the plateau or she was reminded of her emotional pain via the much more corporeal soreness of her aching shoulder, Towhee did whatever she could to blank it out.

She had very little control over her dreams, however, and if she had been a human, she would've woken in a cold sweat. As it were, Towhee startled awake in the darkness of unfamiliar surroundings, mouth sour as images of Tegan's silent screaming faded into the ether. She lurched to her feet and began to stagger through the wood, wondering, Is this what it's like for Fen? Her bad shoulder scraped against a tree and Towhee hissed, halted by the pain of it.

Unlike Towhee, Phox felt relief and a new sense of purpose out here, away from the plateau. The dreams of the one-eyed red wolf and her dark companion had all but vanished (although he had never figured out what they were saying, and he probably never would). He was happy for Fig and Fennec, glad that they would grow up not in the shadow of Quixote, but in his shadow. A calm sense of control had washed over him, and it felt really fucking good. Phox had never been a leader before, but now it felt like the most natural thing in the world. And why wouldn't it? He'd been born from leaders, and he'd been raised by leaders. He already had all the knowledge, and all he needed to do now was to apply it.

Also unlike Towhee, he wasn't deaf. So when she got up in the middle of the night, and woke him up, Phox followed her. He nudged her shoulder once he'd caught up. It was so dark out he could barely make out anything, so he figured lip-reading wouldn't be of much use out here. Instead, he merely let his weight press into her in as comforting as a way as he could conjure up. He didn't really know how to help, but it was the best he could do.

As she stood there, waiting for the sting to subside, her eyes adjusted to the dark. Everything was still pretty unfamiliar but at least she could see. She patently did not see Phox coming and jumped, startled, at his touch. A queer noise escaped her, something between a hiss and a growl. Her lips skinned back from her teeth. But the instant she realized it was only her brother, she calmed.

He pressed closer and Towhee leaned back, drawing a small measure of comfort from his solid warmth. In some moments of grief, she did blame him for her current strife, though any time she was tempted to think in that vein, she reminded herself that she was a grown adult who'd made her own choice. Phox hadn't held a gun to her head and forced her to come here with him. It would be an absolute lie to say she didn't regret it now and then, though she always looked to Fig and Fen in her most struggling moments and thought, Worth it.

They weren't here right now, though, and Towhee felt all the negativity welling up inside her despite her brother's presence. She felt stupid and weak as she began to cry, loudly enough that it may very well bring the kids running to see what noisy monster haunted their new home.

He was rather used to startling her at this point, and once she realized it was him, she settled. Then she started to cry, which is a thing that wolves patently don't do, but we've been over that. I'm gonna pretend it was more of a wailing soft howl. In any case, "oof" was the singular thought that went through Phox's head. Here in the grove (his word for their new home), he had felt nothing but confident that things would be much, much better here. Phox had no reason to believe that, but it had just been that way. It appeared Towhee wasn't feeling the same way. He had noticed, but seeing her outwardly crying like this was a new one.

Gently, he licked her ear, then her eyes, trying to comfort her in any way possible. Even though she couldn't hear it, he whined softly, hoping to calm her down and soothe her worries, whatever they might be.

Her shoulders shook as she vented her misery, aware that she was probably making her brother feel awful. But she really couldn't help it. Besides, both of them should've expected this to some degree. Towhee had been a Redhawk her whole life, nearly two-and-a-half years, and she couldn't just prance off into the sunset as if none of that mattered. Leaving was hard enough on its own, then there was all the extra complications of the various reactions. Towhee saw Raven's dejected face in her mind's eye and sobbed harder.

She felt the press of a tongue against her earlobe and turned swollen eyes toward Phox's face in the dark. Towhee found she couldn't hold his gaze and her eyes dropped again as she said brokenly, "It's just hard." She inhaled, sniffed, deaf to any reply her brother made as she gazed at the forest floor. "A lot harder than I thought it would be."

Phox remained silent, even as Towhee spoke. He knew that this transition was hard on her, but he hadn't known just how hard it was until now. Seeing her like this was hard on him, but obviously in a different way. He wanted all three of his people to be happy, and seeing even one of them in strife was hard to deal with. Using the ridge of his nose, he lifted her chin up so she was at least not looking at the ground anymore.

-Is there anything I can do?- he asked. He wouldn't be going back, and he couldn't make the kids move again, but he wouldn't fault Towhee for wanting to go back to the Redhawks. She'd been with them her whole life. On the flip side, he knew she was just as much a parent to Fig and Fennec as he was, and her leaving would surely hurt them. Still, if Towhee returned, maybe they could work something out with him staying here.

He made her look at him and wanted to know what he could do to help. Towhee didn't reply right away. This hurt, badly, but she could think of no greater sorrow than being separated from her makeshift family. She would not be parted from them; she'd said as much to her brother before and didn't bother repeating it now.

And because Phox would never return, that meant going back simply wasn't an option. There were other reasons this was a good move too, aside from the their family group in and of itself, and Towhee tried to bear them in mind as she took a deep, shaky breath and said, "I just need time." In time, she could accept and adapt to this change, embrace it properly.

With no looking back, they could only look forward. Towhee's face suddenly contorted again. She didn't start crying, but she did ask, "What happens when they grow up? When you find another mate and make more babies? What happens to me?"

Phox nodded solemnly. Time was something that would just take... time. That was a bit redundant, but you get the idea. Phox had felt disconnected from the Redhawks ever since he'd left them the first time around, so he'd done his grieving long ago. Wildfire (ok brain, what is your problem) Towhee was still working through all this for the first time. They'd just have to wait it out, and things would get better.

Her questions weren't ones he'd thought about. -That's not something I'm actively seeking,- he replied with a bit of a shrug. -I wasn't even looking for it when I found Camilla out there. She just... latched on to me. And even then, it didn't ruin you and me, did it? I'll always want you to help raise any kids I have.- Phox reassured her. Any mate of his would have to be good with Towhee being squarely in the picture.

His words reassured her and though she knew it was selfish, Towhee permitted herself that. She wondered idly where she would be if Camilla was still in the picture. Would she be any more or less bonded to Fig and Fen? Would she still have come here with them? Probably, she thought, sniffling.

"You promise? That I'll always have a place?" Towhee asked, feeling a little bit like a weak loser for asking. You're all I have, though, you're all I'll ever have.

-I promise,- he reassured her. Towhee had stepped up when Camilla had passed away and Phox was still grieving. Few siblings could say they would (or had) done that, and yet Towhee had embraced the role without hesitation. She'd been nothing but an excellent mother to them, even if she was technically an adoptive mother. One day, when the kids were older, Phox intended to tell them about Camilla, but for now he was fine with them believing whatever they wanted to. Towhee would always be their mother.

-Wanna go back and get some more sleep?- he asked, feeling like he could use a few more hours of rest before he started another day of the literal pissing contest.

She had no reason to doubt him or think he'd go back on his promise. He'd left her once but Towhee knew he wouldn't do that to her again, nor would he do it to Fig and Fen. Even though it was just the four of them and she'd uprooted from everything she'd ever known, their foundations were solid. She felt some of her anguish dispel as she let out a long, low breath.

"No. You go back. I'm going to do a sweep," Towhee said. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep. She could barely recall the nightmare, though she wasn't particularly eager for a repeat. "I'll be back by dawn," she said, offering Phox a parting nudge before slipping away into the dark.

Phox returned her nudge with one of his own, glad that the two of them were together. Those months apart from Towhee had been hell for him, and he never wished to relive that experience. She departed, and Phox went back to the rendezvous site, snuggling up with Fig and Fennec for a few more hours before sunrise.