Redhawk Caldera Always mountains one must scale

When he'd left for his trip—which had been a giant waste of time, in hindsight, and a literal headache—Peregrine had left behind four young sons. He'd come home to three. Fox's voice kept replaying in his head: Peter is dead. He believed her, of course, and accepted the harsh reality of it. But that was just the first step in what was going to be a horribly painful grieving process. He would have to be strong for his mate and the other three boys, not to mentions somehow uphold the family as the famine lingered.

He tried to comfort himself with the thought, His suffering is over. But so was his life, so in the end, all that did was choke him up. Trying to bite back the sob caught in his throat, Peregrine found himself compulsively seeking the other pups to make sure they were all right. When he spotted Gannet, the relief was great. He padded over to the pale boy, heart breaking all over again when he overheard the pup's tremulous question.

Peregrine wouldn't sugarcoat this, yet would Gannet even understand? "Hey, Gannet," the Alpha rumbled softly, stepping up beside the slender cub and touching his temple with his nose. "Come here. I need to tell you something important." He motioned to a patch of newly-growing grass nearby and sat, waiting for the pup to do the same.