Redhawk Caldera gembright

Teya needn't look far. Young Bronte refused to let the resting place out of her father, for long. She kept a vigilant eye on her brother's too, so they would not go far. She kept close, trying to be a source of comfort for her grieving mother. Huddled near, gilded fur pressed to her tawny flank. Assuring her with just a touch, like the warmth of the suns rays.

But she struggled to hold herself in one piece. Their father was gone. Resting now in the earth, never again to wake up. She still didn't fully comprehend it. She hiccupped, sniffling. Fighting back tears. They'd never see his warm, sweet eyes again! Hear his gentle laugh or his stories. He would never be able to watch his children grow, their futures unfurling before his eyes!

Futures in which he would not be a part of.

Bleary eyes blinking, she looked up at her mother, who posed a question. To all of them. To stay or go? Her head cocked. She sniffled again, confused. "What do you mean? This is our home. It always has been..." Wasn't it? She glanced questioningly at her brothers, hopeful for support. She did not quite grasp what Teya was getting at. Not understanding that she no longer desired to lead.