Redhawk Caldera slow like molasses in january

When she whined, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. He hated stressing her, especially considering her current state. Peregrine wouldn't beat around the bush at all with this. He would just lay it all out there and hopefully the two of them could figure this out together.

"It's my nose. It hasn't worked in about a week now. I mean that it's totally and inexplicably dead," he told her quietly. Although only one of them worked, his jade eyes caught her dull gray ones, holding her gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I was hoping it would come back. But it hasn't.

I can't hunt," he said in the next moment. Those three words were particularly painful to admit out loud. But between his dead eye and his deader nose, his abilities in that department had been diminished greatly. "Which means I can't provide for you." That hurt even worse. "Or them." Excruciating.

The swarthy Alpha wolf took a long moment to steady his breathing and his voice, not to mention collect his thoughts. He thought back on that day when he and his mate had discussed heirs. She hadn't wanted to pick their son because of his defective ear. Well, Peregrine was much worse off than their half-deaf son now. He had learned to live with a single eye, yet this new disability was somehow more life-altering.

"I don't think I can lead this pack anymore," he said at length. There were other things he wanted to say but Peregrine just let those words hang out there, giving Fox a chance to react.