Redhawk Caldera it is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun

He'd never felt so sad in his life.

He lay just outside the borders of Brecheliant, unsure of his welcome here. Probably overthinking it—many of them were his family, after all—but he'd defaulted to the utmost of wolf courtesy.

Killdeer lay flat upon the earth, head upon his outstretched paws, and sobbed. Caracal, gone. Bronco, gone. And now, the guilt upon leaving Fennec to her own devices was cresting, too.

The sheer volume of these losses was absolutely crushing him, and he found it difficult to move.

So here he was, left to his own devices, tears turning the dirt to mud. Heart throbbing, pounding, skipping beats as if it wanted to join its fallen counterparts.

Dad, he whispered, intermittently, choking back wails that would shiver across the caldera.