Redhawk Caldera The demigorgon stole my sister

Peregrine ruffled the fur atop the boy's head with a fond snort, eyes following him as he set upon the kill and began to eat. The Alpha's attention then returned to Trick. He squinted. He was lost? He couldn't find a place to sleep? Perhaps Trick was the Ryan Lochte of wolves: super pretty, even talented, but dumb as hell.

"This guy shouldn't be so far from his den," Peregrine replied, a slightly admonishing tone in his voice as he regarded his nephew, "but what's up with you? What have you been doing this entire time?" He had welcomed Trick and his sidekick a week or more ago and Peregrine just pictured him wandering like a mindless zombie. "And where's that Grace chick?" he wondered.