Redhawk Caldera a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor

Set a few days after Peter died, or something around there.

Ferret spoke to no one about what he had seen. He returned to the home site and kept to himself. He was quiet, subdued, but his rambunctiousness had been tempered by perpetual hunger and so his distant behavior would likely be seen as no more than an extension of that. He chose a spot away from the others and here he spent his time, staring at nothing with his belly to the ground and his chin across his paws. His mind still struggled to process what had happened, and what it meant for the days going ahead. He felt ill when he thought of what he wanted to do, what he had almost done, and it caused him to retch hot bile onto the earth between his feet.