Redhawk Caldera The monsters are here.

Considering her track record, this delivery was downright boring. Towhee gave birth to a son first, his fur so dark brown it was nearly black. Shortly after that came two girls. Finally, a fourth and final pup arrived, only half the size of his litter mates. The Elder tended to him just like the others, though she tried to harden her heart. She sensed he wasn’t long for this world, which was probably for the best. Four was… too many a lot.

It was all said and done by late afternoon on All Hallows’ Eve. Outside, cold rain continued falling fast and hard, though everything was cozy and warm in the back of the Hobbit Hole. Towhee dozed while the foursome fed, waking every now and then to check on them or smile sleepily at the faces bobbing around them.

One of her great grandchildren roused her around suppertime. Before she fed herself, Towhee gingerly stood and made her way to the den’s entrance. She hesitated on the threshold, noting every ache and pain in her body, then stepped outdoors. A loud hiss escaped her as the icy rain hit her scarred back. She toileted quickly, then stepped back inside and shook out her fur.

She had been gone for no more than five minutes, yet when she lay back down beside the four puppies, she discovered that her son had gone still. And it wasn’t the one she had already come to expect. Towhee blinked down at the firstborn—she’d been planning to call him Marmot, of course—and gently attempted to rouse him. But he was limp and cooling rapidly.

With great tenderness, she lifted him away from his siblings, capturing @Hotah’s attention to relay, -He didn’t make it.- She gave that a moment to land, then pointed her snout at the den’s ceiling, where the tree’s roots dangled into the Hobbit Hole. -Will you please take him and bury him beneath the tree?-

She took a moment to gaze down at Marmot’s tiny corpse, wondering what might have gone wrong. She certainly hadn’t stepped on this one. But it really wasn’t worth speculating. Towhee licked his lifeless brow, then motioned for Hotah to take his little body away for burial. She then curled more tightly around the three remaining pups, her attention lingering on the tiniest. Would he survive the night, or follow in his brother’s footsteps?