Redhawk Caldera But in her eyes, we were saints

@Towhee, backdated to Nov. 19 prior to Peregrine's missing, and after this thread.

Hotah padded up to the Hobbit Hole with the lean cuts held neatly between his jaws, the lingering chill of morning still clinging to his fur. The fog had thinned but not lifted entirely, giving the caldera a muted, quiet calm that suited him just fine.

He reached the den mouth and set the meat down with practiced care before sticking his head inside. The pups’ warm scent hit him first, followed by Towhee’s familiar presence curled somewhere in the dim.

He cleared his throat softly, then tapped a paw against the packed earth.

Knock knock,he said, voice carrying a playful warmth he didn’t often use with anyone but her. And maybe Jr.

Hotah nudged the bundle of meat forward a little. Fresh delivery, he added. Picked out the good pieces for you.

A small grin tugged at the crease by his eye, pride slipping in despite himself.

And before you ask, he went on, leaning a bit closer so she could see his lips, Jr and I brought these in. Good hunt this morning.

Someone pounded the ground nearby, prompting Towhee to crack open one eye. She groggily raised her head to eyeball Hotah, wondering why he’d disturbed her rest. Then his lips—and her nose—guided her attention to the fresh meat at his feet. Towhee’s mouth started watering immediately.

She registered his remark about Jr, though she was too sleepy—not to mention hungry—to read between the lines. Towhee eagerly tugged the closest cut to herself, then chowed down. She ate noisily, well aware that a good portion of this meat would come right back up in a few moments to share with the pups stirring beside her.

After taking the edge off her hunger, Towhee licked her lips, wiped a paw across her mouth and finally said, -Thanks. And good…- Was it morning? Afternoon? Evening? -Day,- she decided.

Morning, he supplied, lips curving into a small, tired smile. Barely.

He nudged one of the cleaner pieces a little closer with his paw. -Figured you’d want the good cuts first.-

The pups wriggled at her side, and his gaze softened instinctively. He leaned forward to brush his nose gently over Fairywren’s head, then Tawny Lark’s, to Peregrine's, careful not to wake them fully.

Towhee’s thanks pulled his focus back. He gave a simple, warm nod.

-You’re welcome,- he said, voice low, easy. -Jr did good out there. Strong runner.-

He stretched out beside her—not quite touching, but close enough their warmth met in the small space between them—and let out a slow exhale.

I’ll bring more if you want it. he said, facing her. As she's been preoccupied in this den, the thought lingered in his mind, -Any tasks you need me to do in your stead?-

The second time he mentioned her doppelganger’s name, Towhee picked up on it. It sounded like they’d made good hunting partners, which boded well. Part of her was curious if there was any chemistry there, though she reminded herself she intended to stay entirely out of that particular business.

-No,- she replied quickly to his offer, then thought about it and amended, -I mean yes. Your task is to sit here and chill for a bit. We don’t even have to talk, although I keep meaning to tell you your Ptero gets better every day. There’s merit in just being still and enjoying some peace.-

Of course, “peace” was a relative term when you had three infants at your bosom. Towhee peered at the pups for a moment, stifling a sigh. She didn’t particularly want to share this meal with them. Something suddenly lit up her orange eyes. She wouldn’t ask Hotah—not right after insisting he chill—but there were plenty of mouths living in this den!

-I’m gonna make some else puke for these little pukes,- she decided “out loud,” -but later… I still want to just sit here and be for a little bit. I think it’ll be good for you,- Towhee finished, a teasing look on her face now.

Hotah settled beside her, letting the warmth of the den and her easy authority soften the last edges of the hunt. He watched her hands as she signed, the quick no—yes pulling a quiet smile from him.

Her praise for his Ptero earned a small, pleased huff, his brow tipping in modest acknowledgment. He didn’t interrupt, just let her talk, the quiet between them already working its way into his shoulders.

When she mentioned making someone else puke for the pups, his mouth twitched—more of a smirk than a smile.

-Good plan,- he murmured, voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping trio.

Then, leaning back into a comfortable sit, he added with a soft, teasing exhale:

-Yeah… sitting sounds good.-

A glance at her, grateful and a little tired.

-I’ll take the peace.-

She was a little surprised when he took her up on it. Hotah was normally such a busybody, always doing something productive (and usually for someone else’s benefit), though there was so much merit in giving it a rest. Towhee patted her paw on the floor to show her approval as he relaxed beside her.

But young Peregrine seemed to sense the word “peace” being parried about and chose that moment to roll over and holler. Towhee couldn’t heart the sound, of course, but she saw her son’s gaping mouth and the slight tilt of his father’s ears. Towhee rolled her eyes and bent over the little boy, nosing him onto his belly before pinching his nape between her teeth and shoving him up against her least angry nipple.

-This guy,- she remarked, shaking her head. -Such a little pill. We worked so hard to keep his runt ass alive, now I find myself wondering why.-

It was a joke, of course, although the wince when Peregrine latched was all too real. Maybe she should’ve just puked for him, after all. Better yet, maybe should puke on him… that would show him.

He huffed a quiet laugh, the kind that barely lifted his chest.

So much for peace.

As Towhee wrangled the little troublemaker into place, Hotah watched with a soft, amused warmth edging into his tired features. Runt or not, the kid had fire. He shouldn’t have survived those first days… yet here he was, demanding the world’s attention like it was owed to him.

When Towhee signed her joke, he shook his head, lips twitching into a crooked smile.

-Gets it from you,- he murmured, tone light, teasing.

Peregrine latched, Towhee winced, and Hotah gave another low laugh—sympathetic, but undeniably entertained. He leaned in just enough to brush his nose along the boy’s spine in a steadying gesture before settling back at Towhee’s side.

-Peace,- he said dryly, -is overrated anyway.-

She recognized both his comments as platitudes, though with Hotah, there was a an earnest authenticity to everything that came out of his mouth. Besides, he was right. Peregrine was probably a little jerk because he’d inherited that trait from his dear old mother. And peace was boring, though sometimes the chaos made it seem so appealing. Towhee grunted.

She let their baby boy nurse for as long as she could stand, though growls started to leak out of her in rhythm with Peregrine’s emphatic, thrashing tugs. When Towhee had had enough, she simply stood. This detached him. When he promptly sat up and leaped for her underside, her lips pulled back from her teeth. She didn’t bite nor even nip her son… but when he insisted, she shoved him back with her snout.

-I’m going to find someone who’s willing to not only upchuck for him but keep an eye on them for a few minutes,- she said, an annoyed edge to her movements as she signed. -Then we’re going to get out of here,- she added, the pissy look in her eyes softening when they made contact with Hotah’s.

Hotah watched the exchange with Peregrine with thinly veiled amusement, one brow lifting as Towhee finally disengaged herself. The shove, the determination, the very Towhee-ness of it all pulled a quiet huff from his chest.

When she signed her plan, his brow arched a little higher.

-Oh?- he asked, tone light, curious rather than challenging.

He rose to his feet as well, rolling his shoulders once before looking back to her, that familiar crease at his eye settling into place.

-Where are we going?-

-Not far,- she replied, not sure whether that would be comforting or disappointing to him.

Towhee said nothing further on the topic for the moment. She turned her focus to arranging childcare for the next hour or so, then getting everyone situated. When that was all done, she faced Hotah again and motioned him out of the Hobbit Hole.

-Let’s go sit with our son,- she signed, orange eyes lifting to the tree that stood over the communal den.

She padded up the small hillock, moving slowly because why not? There was no particular rush. She soon arrived beneath the tree, its bare branches scrawled across the blue sky. Towhee barely glanced at the treetop before her attention dropped to its roots, where Hotah had buried little Marmot.

Towhee dropped to the ground with a sigh, then waited for Hotah to make himself comfortable. She drew in deep breaths of the fresh air, eyes squinted against the late November brightness. Her world was always silent, though there was a certain stillness out here that she did not often get to enjoy stuffed up inside the den with the pups. She intended to savor it.

Hotah followed her without question, matching her unhurried pace up the hillock. When they reached the tree, his gaze flicked briefly to the roots, to the small place he knew too well, before he settled beside her.

He eased down with a quiet breath, shoulders relaxing as the stillness took hold. For a moment, he said nothing at all.

Then, softly, with a glance toward her and the tree above, he murmured, -I’m glad we came.-

And he stayed there with her, present, steady, letting the quiet do its work.