Redhawk Caldera Thirty days in the dungeon!

PP'ing Raven with permission. Open to siblings or other adults?

It was very early in the morning. So early that the sun hadn't popped up yet - maybe early enough to be confused with the very-late evening. Time really didn't matter anymore; probably not to @Raven, who had been caring for the six puppies of the apocalypse, and certainly not for the bundles of piss and vinegar themselves. When their exhausted caretaker decided to step out for a breather, it was like Titmouse decided: Now is the time to strike!

He was wide awake. Whatever possessed him to scream endlessly had been exorcised (likely just a temporary fix), so instead of bellowing in to the dark of the den, Titmouse was sort of... Rasping. Peeping. And, actually, peeing. He was on his back, wedged between @Oriole and @Towhee, and with a little wiggle of his bottom, decided to relieve the pressure that had built up down there. From afar he looked like one of those Italian cherub sculptures you'd see if you toured Florence — the best part? It was getting everywhere.

Towhee enjoyed her golden shower quite a lot, to be honest, until it ceased and she almost immediately grew cold. Rolling from her back to her belly, she wriggled around in the rapidly cooling puddle of urine in a hapless attempt to escape it. She began climbing over the next nearest pup (Stoat). Unwittingly, Towhee clambered right onto the other pup's head. It was much drier up here, so she parked.

She paid no attention as the little potato beneath her writhed. Towhee was quite used to it, after all. She gave a happy little peep when her sister gave one last twitch and fell still. She was still rather moist, though she barely noticed with the pleasant warmth underneath her. Content for the moment, Towhee only began to whimper and whine about fifteen minutes later, when the dead body beneath her began to cool.

It wasn't often that Elwood was left alone with the firebirds, since they were usually pretty demanding of Raven's milk supply, but presently she and Finley both had left the babies in the supposedly capable paws of the Alpha male. He found that it was endlessly entertaining to just watch the little lumps roll around and interact with each other. He had laughed quite a bit when Titmouse peed himself and sprinkled his siblings with a waterfall of urine.

After a few minutes, he realized that the responsible thing to do would be to clean the babies, now that the golden shower was over. With a chuckle, he reached out and pulled Towhee towards him, but stopped when he noticed that the puppy lying under her was oddly still. Not a single one of the babies had been motionless for more than 0.003 seconds since their birth, so his brows raised and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Crap," he whispered, now nudging Towhee to the side to give the other pup a panicked touch with his nose.

"Crap, crap, crap," he repeated. A puppy had died on his watch.

With his bladder emptied, a sense of calm briefly suspended his less savory desires (such as picking up where he left off on the screaming thing). Titmouse was unaware of the struggles his siblings faced, or their discomfort. To be fair though he didn't realize he even had siblings, so small was his understanding of the universe. When the dampness of his own urine started to sink in though, Tit realized how uncomfortable he felt; plus his nose worked wonders (as opposed to his other senses for the time being) and he hastily decided that he did not like the smell of ammonia. So began the screams.

Meanwhile, Fake Dad #1 was freaking out and fussing over the limp biscuit called Stoat, but Titmouse remained oblivious.

Per usual, she wasn't left to cry for long. Someone nudged her and Towhee cooed, announcing her joyful acceptance of the coming bath. But... it didn't happen. She felt warm puffs of air against her little body but they weren't really drying her effectively. Her dark brow scrunched as the wilds' tiniest executioner rolled onto her back again and pedaled her stumpy little legs. In case that didn't call attention to her, her small mouth opened in a disgruntled bleat.

"Crap." Now that Elwood had thoroughly expressed his disapproval of the situation, he closed his eyes briefly to try to gather his thoughts. Of course, that was next to impossible since Titmouse had resumed his ear-splitting shrieking, and even Towhee joined in with a little squeak of her own. Thankfully, the other puppies were relatively quiet -- though he quickly admonished himself for that thought, because one of them was too quiet.

"Okay. Okay, hang on, guys," he said, reaching out past the screaming Titmouse and flailing Towhee. He took Stoat gently in his mouth and moved her away from the puppy pile, placing her body near the entrance of the den for now. She would be buried with her parents, he decided; and while he dreaded the reactions of Finley and Raven, he knew there was no sense in hiding what had happened. Nature had taken its course. Turning back towards the living, breathing, squawking puppies, he gave them his full attention.

Towhee was closest, so he began to bathe her. When he was pleased with her cleanliness, he pulled Titmouse towards him, his ears folding back against the sound of the boy's relentless crying. He, too, was given a quick and efficient bath. Elwood's goal was just to keep the remaining five puppies happy and alive until Raven and Finley returned; then, he would take care of the pup that had passed away.

Finley felt exhausted as she trudged back towards the den. Back when she'd had her own litters, she'd always thought that if she could just have a little extra help - like an hour or two free a day - that motherhood would be so much easier. That was so very not the case, for ever as a part-time mom, the Blackthorn was wiped. The whole alpha part didn't help, of course. Nor did it help that every conversation she had these days seemed to be an emotional drain. All in all, it was actually a bit of a relief to be heading back home. As much as those kids shrieked and squawked, she could count on getting at least one cat nap in before duty called.

Her ears perked at the sound of Elwood's muffled voice coming out of the den and his words made her smile. Apparently some mischievous thing had done something mischievous, as was to be expected since that was all they ever did. She crept in, not even noticing the little body to the side. Her eyes were on her mate, to whom she posed her question. "Is the little mafia giving you trouble?" Fin said to him with a small grin.

Finally someone gave him the attention he craved. When a wet tongue began to slide across his tiny body the boy squirmed, but his shrieks quieted (comparatively). Titmouse still moved his mouth as if he were screeching and murmuring, sucking on air and then - by complete accident - chomping down with his toothless mouth on the tip of Elwood's tongue. That felt weird. It was squishy. It was warm, but not the same full-body-warm that Raven's milk gave him; so he promptly spat it out and clicked his tiny bean face shut (its a Christmas miracle).

She lapsed into contented silence when bath time finally arrived. She would never know she'd accidentally drowned her own sister in their brother's urine. Well-fed and now freshly washed and dried, Towhee tumbled into the sleep of the carefree and innocent. She surely wouldn't sleep long—she tended to require feeding every hour on the hour—but, for now, she became nothing more than a sated, fuzzy blob on the den floor.

Honestly, Raven felt like a zombie as she meandered through the morning mist in search of... she couldn't quite recall. She stopped and stood there, trying to focus, but she was too tired. She lingered for a few more minutes, then turned and began walking back toward the den. She needed a lot of things—food, water, a bathroom—but, more than anything else, she needed sleep.

She returned nearly simultaneously with Finley. But whereas the Alpha female greeted her mate in a chipper voice, the Gamma could only stare at the tiny body sitting just inside the den's mouth. Oh no, she thought. Oh no, oh no... When she lowered herself beside her little sister and cradled her between her forelegs, Raven could only stare for a moment. Then she began to groom the unfortunate pup, ignoring the damp, cool, limp state of her corpse.

Raven was so tired of death, she felt like she could scream. Simultaneously, she felt a twinge of relief that came with a side dish of horrible guilt. It was the clinical side of her acknowledging that it would be easier to care for five than six. Choking back the sobs that tried to claw their way up her throat, she pulled little would-be Stoat to her chest and sent out a silent apology to Peregrine and Fox.

The little she-pup drifted to sleep almost as soon as Elwood had finished grooming her, while the rambunctious boy continued to wiggle and squirm. At least the bath seemed to have pushed his mute button, however; Elwood was smiling at the silence and just beginning to draw away when the puppy suddenly clamped onto his tongue. He was surprised by the sudden touch, although it wasn't painful and didn't last for long. He stared down at Titmouse for a long, amused moment, tongue still sticking out from between his teeth, when Finley's voice suddenly had him turning his head sharply.

Though she greeted him cheerfully, Elwood's ears splayed and he ducked his chin guiltily. As he raised his eyes to look at his mate and explain what had happened, Raven's dark figure materialized from the early morning shadows. He watched as she wordlessly lowered herself to the ground and embraced the deceased puppy. "I don't know what happened..." he said quietly, shifting his gaze back to Finley. "She didn't make it."

Fin quirked a brow at the expression on her mate's face, wondering what he was so dismayed about. Maybe the puppies really had beaten him up good. His eyes flickered past her and she followed the gaze to Raven who she hadn't noticed slip in. It was only when her goddaughter ducked to cradle the still body that Finley realized what had happened.

Her heart sank instantly as melancholy rose. Elwood was explaining, but there really wasn't much to say. Finley knew as well as anyone that not all kids were destined to make it to adulthood. With a pang, she remembered the little boy Fox had lost from her first litter. He'd held on for a while, but then nature had taken its course. Finley sighed, the sadness weighing on her, though no tears came to her eyes.

"It's okay," Fin murmured, moving to comfort her niece, "These things happen sometimes. It's no one's fault. Some just.. don't make it." She glanced at her mate as she curled alongside of Raven, hoping he would know that there was no blame here for him to hold either.

Raven knew the facts of life and death, perhaps better than most. She nodded mutely at Finley's well-meaning platitudes. Her godmother was right, of course, but that didn't stop her from feeling fresh grief welling in her chest. Her yellow eyes shimmered but she did her best to blink back the tears even as she tucked the little girl's corpse even more tightly to her chest.

She sent Elwood a sympathetic glance and a shake of her head, as if to say, It's not your fault. She then fell into silence, peering down at the small, lifelessly body between her forelegs. She nuzzled the tiny forehead and ran her tongue gently over the pup's fuzzy crown. She sighed quietly into the downy fur of her bitty belly.

"I know," Raven spoke after a long spell of mournful silence, "that you two think it's bad luck to name the others yet. And that's fine. But I don't want to bury her without a name." She didn't want her to be forgotten. What harm could it do to assign her a moniker posthumously anyway? Her luck had already run out. "Stoat," she said simply.

"I'm going to go bury her," the Gamma softly declared in the next beat, slowly rising and then pausing to see if either one of them wanted to come with her. "Next to mom and dad," she decided aloud. Wondering if either one of them might come—although at least one should probably hang back at the den—Raven gently plucked Stoat's limp body off the ground and exited the den.

All the logic in the world couldn't quite make Elwood feel better about what had happened. It was so much worse since it wasn't his own puppy; somehow, he felt like he had let Fox and Peregrine down. He smiled sadly at Finley and Raven as they both reassured him, and he nodded to show his understanding.

There was a long, quiet moment, in which Elwood's gaze strayed back to the remaining five puppies. When Raven spoke, breaking the silence, he looked to her and nodded. She had a point, and there was no reason for him to disagree with her about giving the deceased child a name. When she called her Stoat, Elwood's lips twitched. Naturally, she had gone along with her parents' tradition of naming the puppies after their appearance.

"Okay," he replied quietly as Raven took action to leave the den in order to bury Stoat with Fox and Peregrine. He remained where he was; although Stoat had technically died while under his watch, he couldn't bring himself to leave the other living babies for fear that something else would happen to them. In the meantime, he pressed his nose against Finley's cheek, realizing for the first time what a huge undertaking the three of them had accepted.

Finley felt strangely detached from the pain that Raven was obviously feeling over the death of the pup. Maybe it was because she was a mother already and knew what it was to lose a child. Maybe it was because she knew that Fox had lost one of her own before, so she felt as though her friend would have understood the loss of this one. Maybe Finley had just been dealt too much pain lately and her heart could not break for this puppy because it was already far too broken.

Whatever the case, Finley could only nod when Raven decided to give a name to the pup - Stoat. It was a comment she'd heard her goddaughter make before to other visitors, that she thought the little girl looked like one. She had seen the name coming eventually, but not so cruelly soon.

Raven gave her and Elwood a significant look as she picked up the lost firebird and turned to go. Finley watched as she left, leaning into the touch against her cheek. She turned to press her muzzle against her mate's with a soft whine, looking at his handsome face mournfully. Her remorse was echoed there, tenfold. She licked his nose softly, trying to soothe his guilt before looking back to where Raven had left.

"I'm going to go with her," Fin said gently, "She shouldn't be alone." Her eyes trailed back to her mate, knowing that he probably didn't want to be alone either. But he was older, he was stronger. Finley knew that he had suffered and survived the same losses she had. Raven was young and still learning life's cruel lessons, and though all Fin wanted to do right then was curl up beside her mate so that they could comfort each other with their nearness, Raven needed her. Fin stood and followed after her niece after giving her mate one last kiss.