Redhawk Caldera serpens

The idea of a mother-like figure seemed to linger around the elder Redhawk. Perhaps there was only something sentimental living in the heart of Trailhawk. Perhaps she was somehow reminded of her own mother in the dulling shine of elder eyes.

She was given instruction again. Go to Killdeer — but ultimately use her own judgement. It was both daunting and an honor. To be trusted that she might not make the wrong decision, that she would not become another wayward body. Her weight shifted at the thought, consumed some of the rabbit they had gone halfsies on.

It is a good place. She assured the Redhawk. Even with the loss and the resurfacing of the patriarch, the caldera was steady. It was a secured place among a seemingly endless wasteland of nothing beyond their doorstep.

I want to be useful. More involved. She confessed this to the Elder, assuming it would be met with guidance, of course. What does Redhawk need now?