Redhawk Caldera [M] Recycled air, the smell of sleep and disinfectant

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In the days that would follow his intimate encounter with the silver-furred woman, Bronco was left drifting, occasionally recalling with a fondness that made his belly ache, occasionally succumbing to the plague of shame. The whiplash of those emotions troubled him. The shame and guilt made him dig and wallow in the mud from the dormant swamps, and then bathe himself in cool, clear waters. But the longing made him wish he could recall even just a hint of her scent in his fur...But it was too late for that now. He'd recycled the scents of his pelt so that he now simply smelled like the wilderness; less like other wolves than he had in quite some time. It reminded him that he needed to check in on the Caldera, to see how his relatives were doing. 

He drifted up the slope of the Caldera, wondering who he would see first- Towhee or Niamh. Towhee had been very pregnant when he'd last seen her, and Niamh had apparently had a broken leg. He wasn't sure he had the bandwidth to get in the middle of the two of them, and simply hoped they'd resolved their differences. Regardless, having been told that the Caldera was so short on warm bodies, with the exception of those who slumbered still in their mothers' stomachs, he felt it was prudent that he check in and see how the remainder of Redhawks were doing.