Sun Mote Copse hey vanity, this vial's empty

A voice, a face; Peregrine's eyes lock into a squint before he shakily peeps, Meerkat?
He hadn't fully anticipated her being the one to greet him, nor her kindness toward him. She'd hardly known him, and yet she appeared to open her arms to him. He blinks before his lips curve upward in an awkward, somewhat bashful smile; a smile as if he had never smiled in his life until now. I'm, um, I'm okay, I--
Peregrine!
And then his head jerks.
In comes the hobbling raven figure of Phox; much more gray than he remembered, and now missing a — limb. Before he can even reasonably react, he's yanked forward by his neck and his cheek mashes into a salt-and-pepper sternum. For a time, his eyes flutter closed, and the familiar scent drifts into his nostrils. Hi, dad.