Redhawk Caldera a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor

Ferret seemed out of it, and Fox looked at him as any mother would who had lost a son. Her heart ached not only for herself, but for the rest of her family that would have to deal with this tragedy in one way or another. "Ferret, why don't you go find Eljay, alright?" she suggested, and after a bit of a blank stare, he sauntered off. It was difficult to watch him walk away, and she finally looked back to Peregrine.

"I don't know. Not exactly. The kids are older, more independent. But it wasn't like him to not come back. I sent Shrike and that... that one with the difficult name to go out and find him. But Eljay found him first, Perry. I think it fucked him up in the head pretty bad." She frowned. It wasn't as though she would be at the top of her game if she had found little Peter's body, but Eljay was... well... Eljay. A little soft around the edges.

"Somebody ate him, Perry. That's what Shrike told me. He found Eljay and went after whatever sicko did this to him." Fox, the forgetful and hypocritical wolf that she was, hadn't batted an eye when she and Peregrine had eaten his daughter, but that was beside the point. This was precious, innocent Peter. Parents weren't supposed to play favorites, but she had. And they'd lost him.