Redhawk Caldera Reliquia.

Towhee frowned as her orange eyes drifted from one side of the Hobbit Hole to the other. It felt so empty, with @Killdeer et al representing the caldera at the fall hunt. She wished they hadn’t gone, though she supposed it was her own damn fault—well, her hormones’, anyway—for rearing a litter this time of year.

She heaved a sigh, then gingerly stood and stepped over her sleeping offspring. Their eyes and ears were opening and they were growing quickly, even little Peregrine. Towhee felt a fierce throb of affection as she gazed down at her tiny son. His death would’ve been favorable two weeks ago. Now, she was attached. If he went, he might take her with him.

They were fine, she told herself as she moseyed to the den’s entrance and gazed out at the November landscape. Cold, fresh air tickled at her face. Clouds obscured the sun, though her eyes still watered a little from the brightness and chill. They combed the surrounding slopes for any sign of @Hotah, not only to help with her loneliness but her persistent hunger too.

This is open to anyone who stayed behind! :)