Redhawk Caldera The lore of the ancients.

The air was brisk, a nip to the mild breeze that ruffled the water. The day would heat up quickly as summer made its last stand for the year. With that in mind, Towhee waded into the water, letting her eyes slip shut as she focused on the sensation of it lapping around her ankles. It felt pleasantly cool, especially in contrast to the sun beating down on her back.

Wait, wasn’t it cloudy today? Towhee’s eyes opened and, sure enough, there wasn’t a single sunbeam in sight. Why did her back feel so warm then? She turned 180°, facing the shoreline as if she might find the source of the inexplicable heat. There was nothing there, of course, and the back of her neck began to prickle.

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me, the Redhawk muttered under her breath a split second before Cinar appeared, heeding her call. You’ve got to be shitting me, she repeated in a hiss as the sudden onset hot flash cued an even stronger sense of déjà vu.

Stepping out of the shallows, she shook off her paws more violently than was strictly necessary and sat with undue force. It felt like fire licked up her spine as Cinar closed the distance and took a seat beside her, oblivious to her affliction. Sweat popped out everywhere it could on her canine anatomy as the Redhawk bit back a groan.

I just wanted to say ‘hi’ and catch up, Towhee said with an air of apologetic resignation, wondering when the smell would hit them both.