Redhawk Caldera Enjoy the silence.

The move to the caldera had felt like the most natural thing in the world. They had only been back a few days, but already Phox had (re)discovered all his usual haunts. Reacclimatizing had been a cinch, and he was looking forward to many more years here—his birthplace—where he belonged. He had already been up for a few hours when he spotted his sister on the ridge, stretching and watching the sunrise.

She was facing away from him, which meant she probably wouldn't notice his approach, but surely she was used to being startled after all these years of being deaf. Phox sidled up alongside her, noting that she looked toward Blackfeather Woods. It was that place—or rather, the wolves who once lived there—that had split them apart in the first place. Phox swore to himself right then and there that he wouldn't let anything like that happen again.