Redhawk Caldera Event horizon.

Despite letting her anguish loose, it didn’t seem to abate. Towhee dropped her head, eyes closing as it hung between her shoulders. After a moment, she raised it again, her orange eyes—rimmed with red from lack of sleep—scouring the distant line where gray sky met green earth.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she spied a figure in the distance, only to sink a moment later. It wasn’t Killdeer. It wasn’t Bushtit either. Although sharing her son’s pale coloration and feminine features, the stranger sported an entirely different physique. Towhee’s jaw clenched and she cut her eyes away, having no interest in a rendezvous.

Thunder grumbled, followed by a pulse of light still contained in the thick cloud cover along with any rainfall. As the sky darkened considerably, her gaze swung back to the figure. Towhee knew it was folly, pouring resources into finding her missing grandson, yet she couldn’t resist the sudden urge to beckon the she-wolf closer with a clipped bark.