Redhawk Caldera things i'm longing for, someday i'll be bored of

She hoped the approaching footsteps were Vesper's, but she wasn't about to get so lucky. She lifted her head and saw a russet figure through bleary eyes, and promptly buried her muzzle into her paws again, her sobs beginning to slowly ease into occasional hiccups. 

What d'you want, Blueberry asked flatly, nose clogged and voice thick and heavy. She rolled onto her side, still curled into a fetal position, and her gaze rose to stare at the wolf once more.

The girl thought she'd seen the other around here and there, but honestly, she hadn't paid enough attention to be sure. Smelled like a Redhawk, must be a Redhawk. But it wasn't her mother, returned from wherever she'd gone, and it wasn't Vesper or Bronco, 'neither.

So fuck it all.