Redhawk Caldera I'm an Albatraoz

"It's not your fault," Saena quickly told him, surprising even herself with the sincerity. It would be wrong of her to allow Peregrine to take the blame for not showing her the ropes when her dream of leading wasn't even a thing before his departure. The task fell to the plateau's current leaders. Saena had asked them for advice, but never to be shown. The blame was as much on her as it was on them, she know, though she wasn't willing to admit it to Peregrine. "I don't think Fox would let me shadow you here, though. No offence, but I'm not really her biggest fan, and I'm not sure she could be convinced that it's a good idea," Saena said, dismissing his offer, though it was tempting and that showed in the shine of her eye and the brief interested twitch of her ears.

Rather than hoping that he could persuade Fox somehow, she absorbed every word he said and stored it away for later consultation. From Peregrine's point of view, it seemed there was no right or wrong way to lead. There were things Saena knew to be good or bad—permitting rule-breaking was about as bad as having an iron fist—but otherwise, it had to do with judgment. It sounded simple. She knew it couldn't possibly be that easy, but just knowing that it was touch-and-go rather than strict adherence to a specific model lifted a weight right off her chest.

"Thanks," she said brightly. She was confident enough in herself to feel like Peregrine was right, even though a seed of worry always sat in her belly. If they were both wrong, then she would wind up alone, but it probably wouldn't be the end of the world.

When Peregrine compared her to her great grandmother, Saena couldn't help but frown. She had heard of March Owl, definitely, but she couldn't remember much about those stories. It had been far too long. "How?" Saena asked, followed by, "what would she do in my shoes?"