Redhawk Caldera there'll be peace when you are done.

Three. There were three more Blackthorns that Nightjar hadn't even been aware of, and only one of them remained to boast of it. Their names were strange and slippery on the tongue but for Lucy's, but she was inconsequential. From the sounds of it, Lucy was six feet under. No doubt she had been the weakest of the litter; probably even weaker than Eljay if she had died so young. Eljay was a wuss, but he had at least survived. He thought that Lucy being gone was probably for the best.

As for the other two, one was the pack's Gamma and one was a traitor. Nightjar hadn't met Lagan yet, but made a mental note to seek the Gamma out in the future and get a measure of his worth. He didn't bother committing the other one's name to memory; she hadn't been loyal to Redhawk Caldera. Then again, neither had Wildfire, but he was more forgiving of his sister even though the crimes were the same. He dismissed the thought.

"Lagan is strong?" he wondered next, having concluded that he must be, to hold the Gamma spot. One out of four of Finley's offspring had amounted to something worthy of Nightjar's recognition: a strong, healthy wolf, loyal to the Caldera and its leaders above all others. It only confirmed Nightjar's innermost thoughts; Finley and Elwood were excellent wolves and had his utmost loyalty, but their children were another matter. After all, at least six of eleven surviving Redleaf-DiSarinnos had remained loyal to their pack, following no other leaders. (He didn't know, of course, that Raven briefly took up with another pack or that Gannet left at all). The newest Blackthorns didn't have big shoes to fill to live up to their family name based on their siblings before them, thought Nightjar, but he had very high expectations for them if they were ever going to prove themselves worthy of the pack name.

He hoped they would.