Redhawk Caldera The truth is, I prefer whiskey.

Oh yes, Towhee knew that full well. She idly wondered what the spring might hold for her older children. What if Figment knocked up some chick? What if Fennec got knocked up? It was hard to imagine either of them being irresponsible like that, though it definitely wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Fen could get herself in real trouble in the glen. And Towhee would be in a bind over Fig. She wanted grandchildren, yet pack laws existed for a reason. The caldera pack could only support so many pups. There were technically two breeding pairs already. Shit, this was exactly why Fig should branch off on his own.

Wraen queried after Frosthawks, forcing Towee to set her internal monologue aside. "You'll have to ask Phox about that. He and a few of the others visited not long before we moved. I stayed back to hold down the fort. Everyone's doing great, as far as I know, though." She paused before answering the next question, which funnily enough aligned with her earlier train of thought. "He's recently expressed a desire to be more, do more, and I suggested it. He's still feeling it out, I think, but he has my support in whatever he chooses to do," which hopefully didn't include any illicit litters.