Redhawk Caldera On trees and birds and fire

Peregrine tried to smirk at her, though it came across as more of an awkward grin. Why was Finley so accepting of all of this when many others were not? He could still hear the angry words they'd hurled at him upon announcing the news. He couldn't blame them, exactly, and he knew that moving was selfish and sudden. That didn't stop his feelings from being hurt. He didn't let many close, yet those he did held a great power over him. He would be licking these metaphorical wounds a while.

She fell into step with him and Peregrine resumed his easy trot, shamelessly stopping now and then to hike his leg into the air and sprinkle the earth with a stream of fragrant urine. They worked in silence a while, though just as he was trying to come up with something witty to say to get their typical banter going, Finley broke the silence instead.

He inhaled sharply. Was Finley about to rebuke him after all? Sort of, though not really. He relaxed and laughed sheepishly when she pointed out their bad timing. Peregrine nodded in agreement, feeling another wave of gratitude and relief wash over him. He hadn't really expected it but Finley was proving to be one of his truest friends. Not only were they similar in personality, she had his back without judgment. Right now, that really meant a lot to him. It meant everything.

"Have I mentioned that I'm glad you're here? Because I wouldn't have realized that winter was coming until you just pointed it out," the swarthy male reported with a serious face. "I think there's still plenty of time to settle in before winter comes," he said with cautious optimism, "but the entire point of doing this was so that Fox and I could handpick a place to raise our young. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make this the perfect place to raise and provide for a family."