Broken Antler Fen and the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon

He nodded silently to confirm his knowledge of the pack's name, then listened astutely as Reyes described the territory itself. Caracal had never in his life heard the term "fen," which was apparently like a bog. He wasn't sure he know what a bog was either, though he didn't say anything. His lips pursed when his dad spoke of feeling freer here, then promised to show him next time, without actually naming a place.

Caracal considered prodding him for a better answer, though there was probably a reason he didn't give one willingly. Maybe he would need some time to come up with one. After all, if someone had asked him about his favorite spot in the Redhawks' domain, he might need some time to consider his answer.

"I'm glad you're happy here," Caracal said, unaware that he was inferring more than what Reyes had actually said, "and it's really not that far." He paused in his tracks to lift a foreleg to shield his eyes against the sun's glare on the lake. The caldera was right there, easily visible in the middle distance. He set his foot down and resumed walking.

As they straddled the pack's outer boundary line, something suddenly occurred to him and he stopped again, whipping to shoot Reyes a stricken look, then glancing behind them. His gaze came back to rest on his dad's face as he realized out loud, "I trespassed earlier, didn't I?"