Redhawk Caldera fire in the hole

Up until the point when she saw Fiadh go down, Finley could only lie still, watchful, excited, riveted by the performance. She didn’t have much hope that they would actually make a kill, but that wasn’t entirely the point. The point was to get some practice in and learn some skills that - truth be told - they probably ought to already have had. Fin had raised this litter very different from her last two. She didn’t want to make the same mistakes as before which had driven her daughter away last time and driven herself away the time before. This time, she had been lax in their upbringing, falling into a motherly role that felt more true to her character than forced like before. It had resulted in four boisterous, loud, foul-mouthed, somewhat unruly young wolves, and that was perfectly fine with Finley.

But when Fiadh went down, the smile abruptly faded and concern overtook her. She made to rise, but quickly stopped as she remembered the pups in her belly and realized she would only risk harming them if she attempted to rush into the fray. She settled back down, tension in her frame as she watched Raven and Towhee sprint towards her daughter in her stead, soothing herself that they at least had it handled. Her attention swept instead to the other kids, who took up a battle cry and took off after the offending doe like wild beasts avenging the deaths of their firstborn sons. She was torn then between worry and amusement, and honestly.. pride. It was incredibly stupid of them, but once again, absurdly, Fin found herself appreciating their reckless, courageous, loyal personalities. 

It was then that Fin considered her newest method of parenting might be to, simply put, be a terrible parent.