Heron Lake Plateau Fact or feeling

Although his encounter with the wolves of the Shadewood had been brief, it had been quite informative. The leaders, whoever they were in addition to Cry—if there were any in addition—had not been present, nor had they been called for when a stranger showed up to ask questions. Phox thought this odd, as he himself would have called upon Niamh and Quixote the moment somebody appeared on their doorstep inquiring about the Redhawks. The leaders were, after all, meant to keep tabs on everything that went down on their borders. It was for this reason he viewed these wolves as weak and disorganized.

He had come home only to promptly fall asleep well before sunset, waking as he often did well before sunrise to observe and note the twinkling stars above him. Since he had returned, he felt the silent acknowledgement amongst his pack mates that he was no longer banished to the far bottom of the ranks. Not that he suspected he was out of the murkiest water. He still wished to reconcile with his sisters, and he had not yet had the time to do so with Raven (and he’d barely had time with Towhee). Phox had a feeling they were avoiding him, but it was unknown whether or not that was just a feeling.

The quiet of the dark morning allowed him time to digest the information they had offered up so freely, and he reflected on whether or not he could have pressed for more. He thought it would have been too pushy to do so, and with the older female there, perhaps that was the right call. Alas, he would not know... at least not for now. He had done his part to gather information for Niamh, and hopefully it would help guide the leaders toward a decision on what—if anything—they should do about the nearby settling wolves.

Feeling less restricted to the outer reaches of the plateau, Phox made his way to somewhere between the plateau’s edge and its center, not ready to test his luck should he come across his sister on a bad day. Not that every day was not bad for Towhee. He only had himself to blame for that. Still, he saw hope in what he had done for Niamh. Hopefully they would cross paths soon. With the sun finally beginning to illuminate the sky and wash away the stars, Phox riled himself up enough to begin heading toward the caches, planning to familiarize himself with their locations and take note of whether they might be running low.