Moonspear daughter knows best

Dhole burst through the foliage, and Fox felt a strange sense of relief in seeing her. Whole, unbroken, Wildfire Redhawk. It brought a sad smile to her face, if only because Fox worried that her next litter could not possibly turn out as good as the first. How could it? They only had one parent, their mother, who was whole. Peregrine was, for lack of a better word, broken.

"They're fine," for now, as far as we know. "It's Dud," she said, burying her face in Dhole's coat for a moment. That was more comforting than anything right now. Even if her second litter was born dead, at least she had this. At least she had Wildfire and Nightjar. "He can't smell anymore. He still can't see out of his one eye. He wants to stop leading Redhawk Caldera, and I always thought I'd go with him, but... he wants me to keep leading them." These weren't thoughts she should be sharing with her child, but Fox had nowhere left to go. "Without him, I don't think the puppies will get enough to eat." And what then? They would, at best, be stunted. At worst, they would starve.

She didn't expect wisdom—or even advice—from the young Redhawk. In fact, just hearing herself out loud made things more real, more solid.