Redhawk Caldera call me a spaceman

She thought perhaps Maia might be resting someplace, heavily pregnant and preparing for birth. But that wasn’t the case at all, according to papa. Frolic met this information with a look of mild surprise. She didn’t fault them for not wanting more children—before her own melodrama, Frolic had concluded she never wanted them herself—but since when were they grandparents? Somehow, she hadn’t made the connection until Eljay slapped the label on himself. And after a moment’s consideration, she found she didn’t like it. It made them sound old. Frolic refused to think of her parents that way.

She said nothing as she fell into step beside her father, reacquainting herself with the sights, sounds and smells of the caldera as they traversed it. It seemed so much smaller than she remembered, which might’ve been funny to Frolic if she had been in the mood for jokes. But something about it unsettled her. Here was another impression from her childhood being warped by her new reality, her new and dark sense of self. It was troubling, prompting Frolic to drop her gaze to her own forepaws rather that continue looking around.

She would only raise them to look upon her mother’s face once they reached her.

It probably makes sense to fade here?