Redhawk Caldera We don't laugh anymore

Eljay came to him and Peregrine remained very still even as he ached to mutually close the distance. When his nephew's tongue touched his chin, his eyes closed and he tilted his snout forward to place his own lick along the ridge of the other wolf's muzzle. He then drew back, giving the Delta an opportunity to speak, and his body froze again for an entirely different reason.

Peregrine experienced a massive crisis of conscience in that moment. He should have known that the lost boy's presence here would confuse the matter; he himself had compared him to Peter and even fleetingly considered what it would be like to use him as a makeshift replacement. But that was goddamn crazy. At the same time, could he even bear breaking Eljay's heart all over again? Would he survive that? Especially if Finley found out about it?

There seemed to be no right or easy answer here. He could give in, play along, but to what end? What kind of permanent damage might that do not only to Eljay but the Firebirds too? He didn't want to pretend or take the easy way out, so after a long beat of silence, he said slowly, quietly but clearly, "No, Eljay, Peter didn't come back. That's why it's so hard to accept a loved one's death, because it's forever. He's never coming back." He swallowed, wincing. "I think you're talking about Stoic? He was lost, so I brought him here so we can take care of him. He looks like Peter but he's a completely different person."

He had more to say on the matter—he briefly wondered if Eljay would like to help find the pup a new name—but he left it that, hoping that breaking the news in small bits and pieces would make it easier to digest. Although Peregrine was beginning to lose hope that Eljay was able to properly absorb this painful reality at all.