Redhawk Caldera Underdog

Before he even drew close, he knew something was off. When he stepped foot upon the grounds that had once been his home, he knew. They were gone. Had they been driven out? Killed by the conflict he had run away from? Towhee, once his best friend and closest confidant, was nowhere to be found. The caldera was empty, and Phox felt the same sensation as he twisted around his old stomping grounds, feeling gloomy and defeated.

If they had been here, he was not sure what he would have done. He had no excuse for why he had run. He had been scared, first and foremost. He was not cut out for fighting. He still wasn't. But he was older now. Perhaps a bit wiser. At the very least, he had learned more about his passions: hunting and the sky.

It was the witching hour, and he looked above him. The stars, at least, had not left him. And he could not run away from them no matter how hard he tried. He sighed, laying down at the former rendezvous site and rolling over to get a better view. Hercules was above, along with the bears. He knew Leo was hiding somewhere behind the western mountains, too.