Redhawk Caldera Family don't end with blood.

As was so often the case these days, Finley's mind was elsewhere. She had told herself to let go of what had happened and to be in the present more, but on lazy afternoons such as these, it was all the more difficult. Try as she might, it was just so hard to not wonder where Liffey was, what she was doing. Had she caught up with that boy of hers? Was that even where she was going? There were so many questions left unanswered, just like the last time. It made her sick thinking about her two daughters and knowing she would never really know what had happened to either of them...

Finley felt a knock on her chin and dragged herself back from her reverie. Towhee flopped around between her forelegs and Fin had to tilt her chin skyward in order to make room. She quirked a brow thoughtfully at the girl, wondering how exactly she expected this to work. It seemed Towhee had the same thought after a few seconds as she moved away to settle before her.

"A story, eh?" Fin repeated thoughtfully, her mind drifting from place to place. She'd never been good at making up stories (see: the Lake Rodney origin story) and really only had the one fictional tale she'd known since she was a kid (see: the story about chasing shooting stars that I've used like four times now). No, she wasn't in the mood for a fable or a fairy tale. She was in the mood for reminiscing, as painful as it happened to be for her lately.

"Has anyone ever told you about how your parents and I came to found this pack?" she asked, equal parts speaking and signing.