Redhawk Caldera The best ever death metal band out of Denton

Fox's tirade made him flinch. Peregrine wanted to calm her down (for her sake as much as their son's) but he also thought she had a point. And maybe Fox would get through to him this way, even if it wasn't enjoyable for anyone involved. The Alpha was still struggling to understand why Whip had done this to himself, though he supposed that made him a hypocrite. Now his mind was clouding with memories of that day when he had been so broken by Peter's death that he had flung himself from a mountain in the halfway hope that it would kill him. His eyes closed.

They reopened a beat later. He had regretted that decision. Life was hard, really fucking hard, but it was still worth living. "Whip," he said quietly when it was his turn to speak again, "hurting yourself helps no one. I understand if you're feeling shitty but there are better ways of dealing with it than injuring yourself." Whip had just said this wasn't the sort of attention he wanted, so the patriarch asked, "What do you want from us, son? What do you need? You know we're willing to give you anything, right? We just can't read minds. We need you to tell us when something's the matter. And tell us what we can do to help."