Sun Mote Copse Werewolf woods wailings.

“We just saw him!” Phox said. “What happened?”

It wasn’t the first time Towhee paused to marvel at just how rapidly things had gone to hell for Caracal’s family. She had been well aware of their struggles with the children—first too many, then too few as they began to disappear—but if she had known there was any danger of this, Towhee never would have left the island.

He’s dead, Towhee said quietly. And seeing as he was beyond help by the time I got to him, I never got his side of the story. But from what I can gather, he started eating fermented fruit to get drunk after losing some of the kids. She frowned. Heda didn’t mention anything he did to harm them. I guess she didn’t like that he would turn to that instead of prayer or whatever. But she left him.

And in retelling this tragic tale to her brother, the anger caught up to Towhee. She still pitied Heda for all she’d been through but if she hadn’t overreacted, Caracal would still be alive. Judah wouldn’t be yet another face on a missing poster, so to speak. Towhee’s jaw clenched.

She gathered up all the kids except for Judah and just left them there on the island. I don’t think anybody knows what happened after that but I can only imagine those two were reeling from their family’s abrupt abandonment…

Towhee abruptly realized Phox had lived this exact same scenario, in a sense: his wife had abruptly left him, taking his unborn children with her. In an ironic twist, Niamh had run to the very same island Heda had fled. The comparison made her feel hollow, though hot fury quickly began to fill in those empty spaces inside of her.

They found me in The Heartwood and I insisted they go back. But by the time we got there, Judah was gone and Caracal was unconscious. He never came back. I was there when he passed, Towhee concluded heavily, tears of what felt like lava oozing from the corners of her eyes.