Redhawk Caldera trash this place, destroy the sun

Oh my God. I am so sorry for the wait on this.

The children of the Caldera, particulalry Finley and Elwood's brood, were petulent and undisciplined in their wild emotions. Whip had seen such behavior at the conclusion of the meeting. He had seen the fire burning behind the eyes of that young boy; the spirit of rebellion. He saw it. He understood it. He felt it too. For as hard as the sirens of the coast tried to supress this unkillable part of Whip, he could not be broken. In his heart was a monsterous amalgamation of anger, rage, and fear -- and it made him stronger. Stronger than those who sought to do him harm.

With the war coming, it was what he needed to be. It was what all of them needed to be. Including the boy.

After picking up the boy's scent, Whip returned to the densite of long ago. He'd grown up here before moving to the rendezvous site with the rest of his now absent siblings. The ghosts of the past haunted him even here. He found the boy glowering upon a rock, seething with childish anger. It was beautiful and something to be nurtured and grown.

Whip made his approach, but he stopped a few paces away. "I know what you want," said Whip. His voice was completely matter-of-fact. Monotone. He wanted it too.