Redhawk Caldera literally

Grimm couldn't remember if Peregrine had mentioned his first litter before, but she refrained from asking for more details - about the pups or their mother. They had obviously flown the nest, and it sounded like things were still tense (understatement of the century - one was a murderer, and the others had assorted psychological issues of their own).

"It's not your fault. Apparently it's 'cool' to be moody and tortured these days," Grimm consoled with a shrug, eyeing the now gently snoozing Wildfire. "If you kept them fed and warm, I'm pretty sure you did better than most. I'm banking on those ungrateful twelve growing out of it in a few years and coming out here to crown me Best Wolf Ever." A likely story. Grimm snorted and shook her head. "Anyway... how's the lady of the house holding up?" Wink wink, nudge nudge.