Redhawk Caldera A fish that's learned to fly

She went quiet after she thanked him, and Phox wondered if even talking was difficult for her. He knew that after his concussion, he'd been terrible company as well. It had been months before the headaches had finally subsided, although he knew that extreme cold could still bring them on. The brightness of the snow occasionally did, too. It was hard to believe that had been over a year ago now. Back then, he'd had much different worries.

Not sure if you're up for much talking, so let me know if you want me to scram, he said, offering her an easy out.

It was entirely possible she wouldn't want to talk for other reasons, of course. Phox had become used to walking on eggshells around her, especially when it came to her leaving and departing, and he knew not to press to hard. She was one of his more "difficult" children, but honestly, he didn't mind. They couldn't all be sweet darlings like Figment and Primrose were.