Sunset Valley Lights from the airfield, shining upon you.

He told her about his mate and child, Imaq and Sikuliak. Towhee wondered when they had come into his life, though what mattered more was that they'd left it. For a split second, she wondered if Nyra was involved. But as the details came out, it sounded a lot like they'd just left one day and never returned. Whether or not it was under their own power, Towhee couldn't say—she knew he couldn't either—but she knew Rye wasn't responsible.

"Rye," she began, gently but firmly. Towhee was no stranger to this scenario and it colored her take on the matter. "I'm really sorry this happened. But there's no way you could've known what would happen. So how can you hold yourself responsible? I get it, though. I really, really do." It would be easier and faster to list the wolves who hadn't left her in some capacity than the ones who hadn't; the list was tiny now. But, again, this wasn't about her.

"Feel your feelings and shit. I just don't think you should beat yourself up so much," Towhee opined, foreleg still slung along his shoulders. She gave him a little squeeze, then let go to sit back a little. "No matter the circumstances, being left behind sucks. Losing someone you love sucks. Life sometimes just sucks ass." And there was a reason she wasn't a counselor, though to her credit, Towhee didn't even attempt to offset this observation with some stupid platitude.