Redhawk Caldera When she sleeps there is a fever dream

An exhale of relief. Fennec was fine, at least as far as Bronco knew. Bronco finally spilled the beans, and what he said didn't make a whole lot of sense to Phox. Then again, lots of things Fennec did didn't make a whole lot of sense to Phox. And she was his daughter. Maybe that was just the way daughters were: not making sense to their fathers so much of the time. Phox had not known that Bronco had been present for the den collapse, but that didn't really explain much of anything. At least it didn't feel like it.

From what he could tell, Bronco and Fennec had gone through a sort of falling out (or in—haha, get it?!) after the den incident.

Oh, Phox said. He wasn't really sure how to respond after that. He was as good at dealing with Fennec as anybody else. She was a fiery creature, bold and defiant, and even the smallest thing could swing you from her good to her bad side in a flash. Phox had been in that position before, and he did tend to tiptoe around her more after that incident. He may have grown a bit of a spine when it came to Niamh and Towhee, but he had failed to grow one when it came to his own daughter.

She can be fickle, he said. Probably just needs time to sort things out. That probably wasn't what Bronco wanted to hear—in fact, he hadn't asked anything. Still, Phox thought it was important to note that Fennec could be a buzzkill sometimes. She had a temper, and her usual route when somebody set it off was to—oh shit, was she going to run off again?

At least now, if she did, Phox knew she had the smarts (if not the skills) needed to not get herself killed. And hopefully it would only be temporary like all the other times.