Redhawk Caldera roses are yuge, violets are bigly

Her yellow eyes carefully tracked Whip's movements as he copied her, leaving a paw print in the cold earth over their father's body. His was larger than hers and, not for the first time, she was reminded of Nightjar. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. Would she ever see him again?

Pushing thoughts of her litter mate aside, the yearling queried, "How're you holding up, Whip?"