Blacktail Deer Plateau take your meds

Peregrine missed his children. Because of that — and likely due to the cooling temperatures, which signified the approaching breeding season to him — he couldn't stop thinking about the litter he and Fox hoped to bring into the world soon. He wondered just when his young wife would be ready. He hoped she would go into season soon. At the same time, he felt guilty about his eagerness, especially after what had happened with Junior.

He'd been walking briskly across the plateau but he stopped quite suddenly. They're six months old today. Six months ago, Hawkeye had given birth to Tytonidae and Osprey Jr. It seemed several lifetimes ago. Peregrine stood there a long time, reminiscing about that day and yearning to see of both his daughters to celebrate with them. He could try rounding up Ty and taking her to the coast to seek out Junior...

Fox's call cut right through that thought like a knife through warm butter. He began to trot again, heading in his mate's direction. Maybe she's ready now! he caught himself thinking. Peregrine shook his head, chagrined. In any event, as soon as he drew closer to her and caught her scent, he knew it wasn't the case. She smelled just like always: somehow like water and earth and fire all at once.

"Hello, foxy firecrotch," he greeted, admiring the way she looked in the fiery light of sunset. "You're on fire, babe." He stepped into the spot beside her and slid his swarthy muzzle beneath her velveteen throat, nuzzling her.