Redhawk Caldera the rocky road to dublin

Life had been simplistic for the second born. Spending a majority of her time in a cycle of eating, sleeping, and relieving herself, Fiadh had merely existed in her first hours alive. But as time aged her, the Blackthorn had found herself waking as Clover stirred. Though her world was dark, there was still much that she could decipher about her surroundings. The ever-present aroma of her mother's milk and her siblings were prominent, but, there was also two stranger scents: the more masculine musk of Elwood and the puetrid accent of Clover's reguritated meal. This wasn't to say that her father was an absent figure in her life, just the opposite; actually, it was just that she never happened to be awake when he was around. So with curiosity present in her wrinkled features, the babe turned blindly towards Elwood and sniffed the air while her head tipped heavily to the side as she followed the wraith of her sister's scent and the more calming one of her father.