Redhawk Caldera i'm searching for a song tonight.

Liffey listened closely as her brother replied. He seemed guarded still, but she found herself smiling anyway as he told her she didn't need to change her life. It was a relief to hear him agree that their lives didn't need to change from what they were now, for she read into it to hear him saying that he didn't feel the need to truly change his life. As in, he would not leave the Caldera as she feared he would. It was gratifying, even though she found herself unable to say the same.

His next statement was one of those curious things her elder brother said from time to time that Liffey could never really understand. They came from no where, and her logical brain didn't know how to accept that there was nothing concrete to tie it back to. Her parents had never been cruel. They had never told him he was a failure as a son, nor had Liffey ever seen him being a failure. She couldn't connect the dots between the things she saw in her brother's life and the way he felt about it. Liffey didn't like not being able to understand. She didn't like pieces to be missing. She wanted to solve, not to simply accept as she so often had in the past.

"Why do you think that's what you need to do?" the girl asked, her expression gentle and concerned, "Why do you think you aren't a good enough son already?"