Redhawk Caldera aftermath

Speak of the devil. Grimm ceased her beavering and whirled to see Peregrine approach her, moving slowly but with purpose. Her heart still fluttered at the sight of him, but now she could anchor it in the knowledge that the feeling might one day fade. That felt good.

"If it isn't the man himself!" she barked. News of Peregrine's injury had reached her, and had she not been so besotted with him, it would have been a good opportunity to work towards a more noble trade than stashing rotten meat. He scolded, she grinned, tail fanning behind her. "Damn - didn't Elwood tell you that I was being fabulous? I could've sworn that's what he wrote on his evaluation sheet." A completely different conversation, but the realization of what she had just said made Grimm blush beneath her fur. "Mostly stashing the caches for your baby-mama. Not long now, right? Still need a sitter?" She might as well have made googly eyes at him and declared 'Anything to be closer to you, sire!'.