Redhawk Caldera But in her eyes, we were saints

-Not far,- she replied, not sure whether that would be comforting or disappointing to him.

Towhee said nothing further on the topic for the moment. She turned her focus to arranging childcare for the next hour or so, then getting everyone situated. When that was all done, she faced Hotah again and motioned him out of the Hobbit Hole.

-Let’s go sit with our son,- she signed, orange eyes lifting to the tree that stood over the communal den.

She padded up the small hillock, moving slowly because why not? There was no particular rush. She soon arrived beneath the tree, its bare branches scrawled across the blue sky. Towhee barely glanced at the treetop before her attention dropped to its roots, where Hotah had buried little Marmot.

Towhee dropped to the ground with a sigh, then waited for Hotah to make himself comfortable. She drew in deep breaths of the fresh air, eyes squinted against the late November brightness. Her world was always silent, though there was a certain stillness out here that she did not often get to enjoy stuffed up inside the den with the pups. She intended to savor it.