Redhawk Caldera distorted light beam

Phox furrowed his brow at the mention of Bronco being the father. The Redhawk had not found his stepson's scent upon the border here, nor anywhere inside. Perhaps it was mere coincidence that Bronco had not been nearby lately. Did he know about his mother? About his siblings? All at once, Phox found himself once again wishing that things were the way they had once been. It was useless to wish for such things, but sometimes he couldn't help himself. Their family had been ripped into a million pieces, and all he could do was gather the bits that hadn't been lost all together.

A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as Towhee pulled him close, but he found that it was helping. Reconnecting with Towhee, who had always been there for him—even when he wasn't there for her—was grounding in a way he hadn't imagined possible.

He pulled back after her last words to respond. -I'm going to let the kids choose. When they're old enough, I mean. I can't imagine what kind of hell they're going through. We always knew Finely and Elwood weren't our birth parents, but these kids didn't. They're still coming to terms with everything. Eventually, I'll come back here. I always do. Maybe their guardians will want to come back, too.- Phox certainly wasn't opposed to it. They had saved his children, and he had nothing but gratitude in his heart for them both.