Redhawk Caldera give my regards to the reaper

All welcome, but please allow @Peregrine to post first.

When they finally got back to Redhawk Caldera and drew close to the den where Dove had been staying, the smell of death was on the air. Fox had hoped that somehow her sister would manage to pull through, even though she'd not thought it likely. The sickness that had started in her shoulder had coursed through her veins, taking her life bit-by-bit until there was nothing more than a husk of a dainty white wolf laying there. The Alpha's hackles rose as she approached, having never liked the dead, and she sniffed the motionless body.

"Damn," Fox said, "I knew she was close, but... I thought she'd at least make it until we got back." There was a sadness in her voice, though Fox did not choke on her words, nor were there tears in her eyes. Death was a part of life, and Fox knew that it would someday come for her as well. Cause and effect, all that good stuff. She frowned, stepping back from what was once her sister and letting out a sigh. Fox had personally never been a fan of burial, preferring to leave those at rest... well, at rest, but it would be easy to cover the den where Dove had been staying if they wished to.

"We should let everybody know." Losing one of their own was never, ever easy. Less so when the one they had lost was a direct relation to the Redhawk family.

The stench of death reached his nostrils long before he laid eyes on Dove's wasted corpse. He let Fox walk slightly ahead of him, though he padded along right behind her as they approached the den's mouth and took a peek inside. She looked like a shadow of her former self, her fur dull and flat rather than fluffy as freshly fallen snow. Peregrine sighed, then glanced at his mate. She seemed perturbed by her sister's demise, though not particularly emotional. Nonetheless, he reached out to touch her cheek with his nose.

"Maybe she preferred to slip away in peace," he murmured. He licked his lips, then nodded. "We should. I'm sure the others will want to pay their respects. Do you want to bury her?" It was traditional, in his mind, to bury the dead. It kept predators away from the body and it always best to have a few inches (or feet) of dirt between a rotting corpse and the living world, morbid as it sounded.

Spending some time with Sebastian reminded Wildfire of their previous conversation about replanting. When she awoke this morning, she recruited @Raven's help in finding some plants to grow in what would become her garden. The youngster wanted to grow not only pretty flowers but also some greens that served a purpose. Together with her sister, they located and gently unearthed several types of medicinal plants, which they carried to the patch of earth next to the badger den where Wildfire kept her collection.

They spent a few hours digging in the soil, gingerly placing the roots in the shallow holes and then gently covering them again. They completely destroyed a few of the plants in the process, yet when it was all said and done, Wildfire beamed proudly at their handiwork. There were about six different types of flora planted in the makeshift garden. The young Naturalist would do her best to nurture them and see that they kept growing after their transplants.

Tired from the morning's work, the girls trotted back to the rendezvous site for some grub and a nap. While Raven slumped to the ground with a sigh, Wildfire loped to the edge of the clearing to relieve herself. While squatting there, she glanced off to her right and saw two silhouettes roaming toward the caldera. Despite the distance, she recognized the two figures immediately. They're coming from the north, she thought even as she stood up again and wiped her paws off on the grass behind her. Wonder where they went?

The Alpha pair disappeared from view behind the caldera's sloping flank. Despite her weariness, Wildfire called out to Raven, "Mom and dad just got back from somewhere in the north!" She then took off at a gallop to meet them, very curious where they had gone and why they hadn't taken her, their newest young Outrider, along with them. It would have been a perfect opportunity to explore, especially with both of them there to keep her safe. But maybe they had gone far enough north for it to be particularly dangerous, so they had left her behind? So many questions cropped up in her head.

But all of them faded into the back of her mind when she breathlessly arrived at the caldera's foot, only to find her parents standing near the pack's hospital wing, looking a bit doleful. The smell hit Wildfire's nose and she blinked, shuffling slowly to join her parents and glance in at the motionless Dove. "Is she... dead?" she whispered, amber eyes lifting to her parents' faces. Their expressions pretty much answered her question, so she glanced back at her deceased aunt, more fascinated than sad by the diva's passing.

Fox flinched when Peregrine touched her, following it with a sad smile. "Maybe." Or maybe nature just took those she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted. That was the way Fox had thought things were ever since she had lost Haunter. It wasn't as if Haunter had asked to die alone. He had come back to be with her, hadn't he? She was his light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and he'd promptly gone right back into that darkness. It hadn't been his choice at all.

Peregrine spoke again, returning her thoughts to the now and away from the then. "Yeah," she replied, knowing it was his custom, even if it wasn't her own. "Can we leave her in here?" Fox didn't have any interest in pulling her out of the den and potentially picking up that infection. Hell, she didn't even know if that was how infection worked. She just knew she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

Is she… dead? Fox turned around to see Wildfire who seemed to have a somewhat nonchalant view of death as she peered around her parents to the white fur. "Yes, she is," Fox affirmed. "Sometimes, even the best healers can’t save the sick." It was a big part of the reason Fox didn't trust them. Why did their magic only work sometimes? Not that it mattered now. Dove was gone, and nothing would be able to bring her back. The reality of it was beginning to sink in, and Fox stepped toward Wildfire, wrapping a foreleg around her a drawing her close.

He paused when Fox asked if they could just leave her where she was and make a burial site out of the den. "Do you think @Magpie would mind?" was his only real question. He thought of Sebastian. He was well enough to rest elsewhere anyway. But what if the yearling hoped to continue using this makeshift infirmary? "I'll call for her and the others to come say—"

Before he could finish, Wildfire appeared at her parents' side, a questioning look on her face and tone in her voice. He looked to Fox, to see how she wanted to address the death of the girl's aunt, smiling sadly when his mate drew their daughter close. "She's not suffering anymore," he added onto the Alpha female's answer. The consolation was meant for the pup, though he found comfort in it too. Dove had likely suffered terribly before her death.

Silently pushing that thought aside, Peregrine took a few steps away from matching mother and daughter to howl to the rest of the pack. "Dove has passed away. If you would like to come pay your respects and assist with the burial, please come now." His sad song echoed off the nearby mountainside as Peregrine turned and gently eased himself in beside Fox and Wildfire.

Wildfire nuzzled her mother's throat when Fox tugged her into an embrace. "Sorry, mom," she quietly breathed into her dam's fur. She let herself be held for a moment, then pulled back a little to say, "Rave and I just planted some flowers. Do you care if I go back and pick one to put on her grave?" She pressed her nose to Fox's, then stood and glanced at her father, who was now sending up a howl for the rest of the pack to come pay their last respects.

Quickly, the youth galloped up the mountain, back toward the rendezvous site. She ran into Raven and stopped long enough to say, "Aunt Dove died. I'm gonna go grab a wildflower from our new garden to put where they bury here. Wait here." The Naturalist then zoomed away toward their fresh new plot, which she stood over for a few minutes before deciding on which flower to pick: a "snowflower" to commemorate the color of Dove's coat.

Wildfire loped back downhill, collecting Raven en route. The mismatched pair of sisters arrived at the scene of their aunt's death. Their parents were the only ones there still. Knowing that their pack mates would likely arrive soon to help with the burial, Wildfire took a seat beside Fox (Raven settled on her other side), clutching the stem of the white blossom in her mouth as she waited in respectful silence.

She hadn't expected this. It was always a possibility, of course— but she had been determined. Whatever her start had been with Dove, the pale woman was still family. Her half-sister. Her blood.

Magpie had been gathering more herbs for her stores, enjoying the summer weather, before making her rounds and tending to those that needed a healer's attention. If she had realized that Dove was this perilously close to the end— was so far from stable— she never would have left her alone. But there was still a chance, if slight, that the pale wolf was still alive. If there was even the thinnest of threads, Magpie might be able to revive her.

And so she dropped the herbs and began to run to her half-sister's den, dashing across the caldera at full tilt. Her sides heaved as she came to a halt, where Peregrine and Fox stood watch. Wildfire and Raven were already there— and with flowers. Magpie could feel her throat tightening, her eyes burning, as she struggled to catch her breath. Wordlessly, she moved past all of them, to verify for herself that there was nothing to be done...

But she could sense it already, and she froze before she ever stepped into what had been her infirmary. Again, silently, she moved past the rest of them— this time in the opposite direction, her movements automatic. Torn between the need to stay and the increasing desire to run and never return, the yearling began to pace... her gaze never meeting anyone, her jaw firmly shut.

"Sure, kid," Fox replied to Wifi when she requested permission to go grab a flower or two. That certainly couldn't hurt. She returned with Raven, and Magpie arrived as well. "All the family," Fox thought, even though Nightjar wasn't here. He probably would not have much to say about it, anyway. Why would any of them? Sure, Dove had been the firebirds' nanny for much of their growing up, but did they really have a connection beyond that? Probably not.

"Magpie, can we bury her here?" Fox asked. Her half-sister was pacing nervously back and forth. Perhaps she had been closer to Dove than Fox had realized. Or maybe she hadn't really had a family member perish in the past.

When only one wolf—a distressed Magpie—arrived to say goodbye to Dove, Peregrine frowned. He hadn't felt particularly close to her, yet she was part of their pack. She had given her life in the line of duty (hunting). Why on earth was nobody showing up to pay their last respects? The Alpha's fur bristled and he issued another, clipped howl demanding more of his pack mates to come hither unless there was a good reason not to assist in Dove's sendoff.

Wildfire left and returned fairly quickly, Raven in tow. Much of the immediate family was here, at least. The Alpha sighed, disappointed in the Redhawks' lack of sympathy, then pricked his ears when Fox asked Magpie if they could bury her here. The yearling looked visibly upset and he couldn't blame her. Losing a sibling was always difficult. He missed his sister every day, even if he hadn't lost her to death.

Only Magpie joined them after Peregrine's call. Wildfire felt bad for her Aunt Dove. Sure, she was kind of a bitch (not that the child would have ever said so out loud) but she still deserved a goodbye. The youngster didn't have long to dwell on it, for she noticed the yearling's upset demeanor and moved quietly beside her, hoping to comfort her. She wished she had picked two flowers, so she could offer one to Magpie as consolation for her loss.

Setting her single blossom gently on the ground, Wildfire said, "Sorry about your sister." It made her think briefly of offering condolences to Finley following Tiger's death. Wildfire smiled wistfully when she recollected how she'd offered to be Finley's new sister. She was older and smarter now, so she knew better. "Are you okay?" she added gently as her amber eyes followed the sylphlike Magpie as she paced back and forth.

Fading this one out.

Magpie nodded solemnly, and Fox stepped forward to give Dove a final look. She would not have liked her last memory to be so... dirty, but unfortunately, she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. With a sigh, Fox began to push dirt into the den, covering her sister's body with the soil that would be her final resting place. In time, she would come to terms with it, but shock was still coursing through her, even as she helped cover the last bits of white fur that clung to the body.