Bearclaw Valley it's by the light of the plasma screens

it was not like the blackbird to give up -- if the pursuit was worth it. but this was not her child, not her errand to raise -- she gave a careless shrug of her shoulders and resigned herself to the fact (not unhappily, either) that the boy they had been searching for was no longer in their fold.

a shame, really. she turned to ashlar, who now stood with his back hunched and his body tucked. i'm sorry.

what good had words ever done the blackbird? her gaze combed the boy absently. soft, wasn't he? just like that other not-child of hers...

maybe her legacy would not be ruthless killers. maybe her legacy was tied to these creatures; vulnerable as a grub upended in the dead of winter.

she rolled her shoulders in a dismissive shrug and began to make her way back to the den.