Redhawk Caldera Hitting the tables without you again

Peter didn't seem to hold his father's empty hands against him, though that didn't lessen the burden of guilt on the father's shoulders. What if he was just being stubborn and sentimental and, by staying here another day, he unknowingly doomed one (or more) of his children to death? That thought caused his blood to run cold. Even as his littlest son made a pleasant eep! noise, he struck out a paw and hugged it around Peter's small, frail frame and hugged him closer.

"Any marrow left in that bone?" he murmured doubtfully, slipping onto his haunches with a sigh and tugging young Peter ever nearer. "Wanna take a nap with me, little buddy? Then I'll go out and try to find more food." The smile he directed down at the child did not reach his hollow, hungry eyes.