Redhawk Caldera a shadow tilts its head at me

There was the sound of a record screeching in Raven's head at the words, "Peregrine's dead." She blinked owlishly, forgetting all about Fox's wound and her intentions to help mend it. She took a step back, silently mouthing, What? She couldn't actually find her voice, especially when her mother downplayed the seriousness of her injuries and then dropped another bomb: Peregrine had only just died last night. She'd missed him by one day.

Her eyes felt misty, her heart heavy, as Raven struggled to process this news. In the end, she wasn't sure what to do with it, so she refocused on something she could manage: tending to her mother. If Fox didn't need her medical help, then the yearling could offer her comfort, consolation and support. "Mom... I'm so sorry. I'm here now," the young woman said meekly, gently nuzzling Fox's chin. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, voice thick with remorse for having missed out on her dad's last days, among other things, and for ever having left in the first place.