Redhawk Caldera Whatever's left of you

There was an unspoken tension -- she could feel it in the air. She could see it in their faces. Hear it in what remained unsaid. She had always been an intuitive girl. Obtuse as her father could sometimes be, Wagtail often had to be willing to follow the throughline to the truth. 

She was silent. It was Whip's family, after all. She supposed it was her's too, but having never met another Redhawk before outside of her father, it was hard to differentiate them from simple strangers. 

Nevertheless, she knew what she was: the veritable elephant in the room. The half-breed.

She cleared her throat and nudged Whip's side.

"Oh -- I have a daughter," Whip remembered. "Her name is Wagtail."