Sun Mote Copse a stick, a stone; it's the end of the road

She held onto him as he sobbed. A few tears slipped free from the corners of her eyes, though Towhee tried to remain strong for him. She’d wept enough already. She was still sad, though nowadays she trended more toward anger.

When he gently pulled away, she settled back to look at him. She wondered where he’d been, what he’d been doing, before coming back to this news. Where was his mom? Towhee wanted to ask all these questions, though she patiently tabled them for later.

-“I’m… not okay,”- she replied honestly. -“This is hardly my first loss, though it never gets easier. And this one hits particularly hard, not just because he was my child but because of how it happened. It was completely nonsensical.”-

She felt the fury licking in her belly. Towhee took a couple steadying breaths. Was Killdeer on good terms with Heda? She was about to ruin that, perhaps.

Caracal was having a hard time, she continued, shaking too much to sign along, as a few of the younger kids disappeared. He started to eat this fermented fruit, I guess he got drunk from it?

What a strange time for a flashback. In retrospect, she was surprised she hadn’t made the connection sooner. Towhee drew in a sharp breath, wondering if those sorts of tendencies were inherited. But to compare Caracal to his father felt deeply wrong, so she discarded that thought out of hand.

Heda left him. She gathered up the rest of the kids—all except for poor Judah—and just left him. They came and found me and I had them immediately turn back because what the fuck. But it was too late. It was too late, Killer, Towhee finished on a croak.