Redhawk Caldera the old bridge is on fire and i’m the one to blame

+23 to guilt, through Fox's family's association.

Magpie continued, speaking of how Corvidae did not stay in one place like most packs did (or did they, Fox wasn't convinced that was the majority). She assumed it was a pack, anyway. She was glad for the haunch in her mouth when Magpie continued to speak of the unspeakable thing her father had done. He had gone behind his mate's back to birth children from another female. Magpie's mother, if she was following this all correctly. In Fox's home land, that was the way of things. Bastards were not meant to be born. And if they were, they were to be culled. They had no true parents, as they were not born out of a true bond. It made sense, and Fox would have done the same, even to her own blood, if they had been born under such circumstances.

But it was the word sputtered in pure hatred that caused Fox's blood to run cold, and she dropped the haunch, stopping abruptly. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, even though blood trickled out the corners of her mouth from the gift Magpie had brought. She swallowed, her throat feeling as though it was filled with sand. “Did you say… Crestwood?” It was a name Fox had only spoken once during her entire stay in the Teekon Wilds. Not because it displeased her in any way, shape, or form, but because she had no ties to them. No reason to bring them up. Not even Peregrine asked of them. This time, she did not regain the haunch in her mouth, but stood over it as she awaited Magpie's response.