Redhawk Caldera i'm not the one who stabbed the captain with a pickle

Junior let out a quiet breath of relief, though she inhaled sharply when Fox informed her that her younger brother and sister had left the plateau. "In your footsteps," Fox said. The youth's jaw muscles twitched. She didn't know what to think or say to that. She just hoped they were all right, wherever they were.

Fox still hadn't answered the most pertinent question, perhaps because Junior hadn't answered hers either. "I decided I couldn't be a part of their pack when I realized how badly they treat males," Junior said forthrightly. "They treat them like scum," she added, then left it at that. She hated to admit she'd made a mistake and she didn't particularly want to discuss the details with Fox of all people.

"So why are you guys moving here?" she demanded again. "And when will my dad be back?" She pictured him making his way to the plateau to break the news. Perhaps she could trail him. Junior both dreaded the idea of reuniting with her father and secretly yearned for it. Time — and perhaps a touch of maturity and experience — had definitely tempered her bitterness toward him and even his mate.

An odd thought struck her on the coattails of that one: she could theoretically rejoin the plateau now, since her father was evidently no longer in charge. Who was, then? And would she want to go back there at this point? Or would she take a chance at joining her father's ranks here, supposing he would have her? How strange that a jaunt to the big lake would bring her here, to yet another crossroads in her young life.