Hideaway Strath To the bone.

Towhee knew she shouldn't. She needed to rest and heal. But how could she do any of that when her family was still trapped? She took one night to get some sleep, then gave her caretakers the slip before daybreak, limping her way back to the wall. By the time she reached its base, she felt a little woozy. She paused to draw in some breaths, steady herself.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a brush on her thigh, not far from her wound. With a clipped snarl, she whirled (making her even dizzier), only to discover Sugar standing there. "It's bleeding," the youth said. "You shou—"

But Towhee didn't let the miniature medic finish. "Spot me," she grated out before turning away from Sugar and back toward the rock pile. She didn't know if her younger sister would know what that meant but she didn't let that stop her. She began to climb.

She fell, more than once. Her wound reopened and her ribs were screaming in protest. Yet Towhee refused to quit. Nails scraping on shale, she heaved herself up the stack of stones, stopping only when she reached the pinnacle. She had hit her head somewhere in there and a cut on her brow bled freely into her right eye. Blinking madly, Towhee otherwise ignored it as she raised her muzzle skyward and unleashed a shrill, wavering note of desperation.