Northstar Vale Picture a place where it all doesn’t hurt.

Phox had been skittering to and fro, trying to give Towhee, Maxim, and Jack space while also not ignoring them. For the most part, he had stayed nearby their den, hunting up what grub he could on three legs, and being a quiet reminder that things would—someday—feel a little bit better. On some level, it felt unfair that he was not as affected by Leona's death as his sister and her family. He had barely known the girl, and he cursed himself for being absent (if not physically, than socially) for so long. He reminded himself that he had to do better.

The Redhawk awoke to the sound of Towhee's unmistakable voice, and he blinked his eyes awake to see another standing there. With Towhee's inflection and behavior, he could only assume it was Arsenio's mate. Hey, he said, blinking a few more times in the light of day. If Towhee wasn't ready for visitors, he would take her queue and redirect the other woman somewhere else. If she was, he was happy to fuck off so she could chat with her friend.