Redhawk Caldera Symphony No. 5 in bass minor.

Towhee Redhawk had been through countless ups and downs throughout the last eight point five years. Some, she had been sure would be the end of her at the time. She’d always recouped, somehow. But this time… she really wondered if this was the blow from which she would never recover. It made sense. She’d lost many—her mate, her children—but losing her first and favorite grandchild was unequaled in its brutality.

She hadn’t left the Hobbit Hole in days, delegating duties from the den’s door when she could manage it. Towhee didn’t want to give up without a fight, so she tried to rest. When she wasn’t sleeping, she made herself eat. It was all so much harder than it should be, yet she told herself all hope was not lost. Killdeer might still turn up at this point. And it would be really mean if she was dead when he did.

This morning, cicadas purred loudly from every direction, though Towhee naturally didn’t hear them. She puttered up to the tree at the crest of the hillock over the Hobbit Hole and surveyed the caldera from there. She could see figures moving in the distance as the other Redhawks carried on with their lives despite this terrible burden they all shared. She was just glad they had the energy where she definitely did not.