Redhawk Caldera So, I will follow you to Virgie

Hotah surged the muskrats from the den in a burst of motion, water and mud flying as he drove them clear. He turned just in time to see the boy dive—clean, decisive—teeth closing, a sharp snap ending it quick.

A grin broke across Hotah’s face. Good kill, kid—

Then he really looked at him.

The smile stilled. His breath caught. Those eyes—warm, unmistakable—hit him like a blow to the chest.

Towhee…? he murmured, disbelief threading his voice. No. That wasn’t possible.

He stepped closer, gaze searching the boy’s face. Who’s your mother, kid?

The question hung there, heavy, as the river whispered behind them.