Redhawk Caldera Stuck in '93.

It's easy once you have a few friends to help, Bat had said with a wink and an elbow in her mate's side. Alyx wanted to believe her cousin, but the process of finding wolves to join her in creating a brand new pack seemed monumental. In fact, it seemed downright insurmountable, no matter how much confidence Alyx had in herself.

That was part of why she was here, the selfish part underneath the desire to see her family and share her lack of news. That should have been that. She should have been able to enjoy getting to know her cousin-brother and catching up with Towhee. But that wasn't what being a Redhawk was about.

Alyx could tell even before Towhee dropped the bomb that something was wrong. She couldn't possibly know the sheer depths of Towhee's misery, but it was impossible to overlook the way the Sovereign's figure seemed to sag under an invisible weight, even before the words left her mouth. But then they did.

Alyx's whole world came to a screeching halt, including her lungs, which forgot how to breathe for an entire twenty seconds while she just stared at Towma.

Niamh. Dead.

Her siblings were alive and with Phox. That should have been some consolation, but Alyx simply couldn't get over that former thought. Niamh was dead. Niamh was dead.

Niamh was dead she was dead she died she's gone—

Alyx's face was stony, but all the warmth was draining out of it, living her ears ringing and her mouth slack with disbelief. No, this was wrong, this couldn't be. She'd never properly made amends with her mom. She couldn't be gone.

Wh ... What? That ... That can't be.