Redhawk Caldera no way out

Still stricken with grief over Niamh's departure, Phox sent out a beckoning howl for her every few hours. She had to come home. She had to come back. She had to get better. Whatever was happening to her, he didn't know, but his anger had turned into something else. Sorrow, loss, depression, wanting. The wolf who had been by his side for over a year, who had gotten him through some of the hardest times in his life, was gone. Wherever she was, he worried for her. Whatever was going through her mind, he worried about that, too. What would drive her to leave? Surely there was more to it than a grudge?

He felt the beginnings of another migraine, and he stilled himself for a few long moments, taking deep breaths and trying to bring down his racing heart. The voice that called wasn't familiar to him, but maybe whoever it was had heard his calls and had news. He feared for the worst, especially considering how heavily pregnant Niamh was, but he propelled himself forward to greet the caller.

It felt like a sick joke when he realized who it was. Phox swallowed, his mouth and throat dry.

Dhalia, he greeted. A wolf he had once foolishly pined after when he had Niamh at home. His lovely wife. If this wasn't karma, Phox didn't know what was.