Redhawk Caldera Out of student loans and treehouse homes, we all would take the latter

Things had gone to shit for a hot second but everything was more or less back to normal these days. The Alpha male was growing more and more excited for the upcoming litter, his joyful expectation swelling in direct proportion to Fox's belly. Even though his nose was all right now—better than ever, really—he left a lot of the hunting up to his fellow specialists and instead focused more of his time on prepping the den and basically doting on his mate all the time. He would (and could) still provide in the good old-fashioned away (with meat) but Peregrine was a dedicated family man now. He had done pretty well with the first batch of Firebirds but he was determined to do even better with the second, maybe win a Dad of the Year award or something to make up for all his past mistakes.

On the subject of Peregrine's nose, he still fancied he could smell them. He was still convinced there were four of them, all boys. He didn't really mention this to anyone, not even Fox, because it seemed a little crazy. Only time would tell if he was really that good or just totally nuts. Frankly, Peregrine didn't actually care about how many there were or if they were boys or girls. He just wanted a healthy litter. His nose told him that all was well on that front.

Just now, the Alpha sat just above the den's mouth, staring at a female cardinal on the bare branch of a nearby oak. She was preening her breast, then her wing. "Where's your mate?" the wolf asked her but the bird behaved as if she hadn't heard him. Probably she hadn't. She was a damn bird. "Where's my mate?" he abruptly asked the empty air, squinting his eyes and scanning the nearby territory. He hadn't seen her since she had left earlier that morning, waddling off to get some food and drink. He should probably go find her; he decided he would get off his ass and do so in a minute.