Redhawk Caldera you and me were kids.

He opened his mouth as Finley began to rant and rave, letting his jaw hang slack as he was barraged by the disdainful words directed at their daughter. He understood Finley's frustration -- truly, he did -- and he started to gather his thoughts, realizing that he would need to use a different tactic. Finley wasn't looking for justification for Liffey's actions; Elwood knew that sometimes she just needed to vent, and evidently this was one of those times.

"I know," he said, nodding. A slew of rational yet agreeable words sat on his tongue, ready to smooth his mate's ruffled feathers, but when he inhaled through his nostrils in preparation, he detected a very faint scent that froze him in place. It was almost too indistinct to identify, and yet it was unmistakable.

"Oh," he breathed quietly, shifting so that he could look Finley in the eyes. It all made sense now: her irritability and short temper (well, shorter than usual) were caused by her imminent heat. The logical part of Elwood's brain started to shut down as he silenced the pesky voice saying something about bad timing. They had the firebirds to care for and a pack to lead, blah blah blah. Eljay, Lagan, Liffey, and Lucy hadn't been products of good timing -- so why would there be anything different about their potential third litter?

Without mentioning his swift change in demeanor, Elwood rubbed his nose against Finley's throat with a low, purring growl.