Redhawk Caldera rough gem

By the time Fox finally stumbled to the edge of her territory, she was delirious. The smells of home were welcome, but she felt hot and cold at the same time. The entire right side of her face throbbed with a dull ache, and had she been able to see what what was going on in the eye that had been hit, she probably would have wretched right then and there. Thankfully, there weren't any mirrors around. Dried blood matted her fur against her skin, and things were not looking particularly pleasant. A piece of the locust was actually lodged in her eye socket, giving her one nasty infection.

Not only was she in a great deal of pain, but Fox was also dehydrated and hungry. Even though she'd seen (with her one good eye) the destruction, she hadn't really been able to comprehend that all the green in the world had been stripped away. Mustering up whatever strength she had left, Fox lifted her chin and howled, hoping for @Peregrine.

They had gone to ground during the worst of the swarm, surfacing only as the wave of insects began to recede into the distance. Peregrine hadn't really been worried at first. Surely the bugs would move on soon enough. But when he crept out of the cave and surveyed what was left behind, well... he gasped. He literally gasped. There were piles of dead bugs all over the place. Those didn't really concern him. What stole his breath was the bare, patchy earth and the dead-looking trees. It was the height of spring. But there was no grass. There were no leaves. The locusts had left behind a barren, dead wasteland.

"Oh, fuck," said Peregrine, roaming restlessly forward. Lying low the past few days had been good for his leg, yet he still couldn't put weight on it. He hobble-hopped as swiftly as he could to the rendezvous site, feeling a pang when his single eye swept over the devastation. The rolling, grassy hills were bare, naked, stripped of all life. He swallowed dryly, glancing out to the distant lake. Although its glistening blue surface reassured him, it also teased him. It was the only smudge of color for miles in any direction.

He was a hunter, so he knew what this meant for the resident herds. They would move on entirely. Peregrine's heart throbbed. He had never experienced a famine before, yet he remembered his parents passing on stories about something called Fimbulvetr. The Alpha could not picture anything more excruciatingly slow and painful than dying of hunger. His lips pressed together as he realized that he, his mate and his children might be facing just such a grim fate.

As much as he loved Redhawk Caldera, Peregrine decided right then and there that he would uproot if it came down to it. Even if Fox resisted, he would insist. Speaking of which, Peregrine turned and began hopping down toward the borders, in the direction of the (now alarmingly bare) Bramblepoint. Fox had been missing for days and he assumed she had taken shelter somewhere between here and Moonspear. But she hadn't come home yet, so now that he had taken a moment to process his initial alarm at the situation, it was time to find her and bring her home.

Her howl reached his ears when he was most of the way down the slope. Hearing the note of urgency in it, Peregrine hastened his steps and wound up stumbling several times for his effort. Grunting in frustration, he located her figure in the distance and made his way there as quickly as possible, his happiness at seeing her quickly eclipsed by a growing horror as he saw the mess on the side of her face. The Alpha's stomach rolled as he braked to a stop in front of her, gingerly reaching out to touch the side of her neck.

"Babe," he crooned. "Did a bug do this to you?" he guessed, trying to swallow the heart that had lumped to throb in his throat.

She still felt like she was on the verge of losing consciousness, but Fox managed to keep her one good eye open as she sat and waited. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to make it up the mountain that she called home, and she knew that meant seeing her children later, rather than sooner. When Peregrine finally came into view, Fox's chest nearly burst with joy. In at least some small way, she wasn't sure she'd ever see him again.

Fox tried to speak, but she was parched, and all that came out was a hoarse, ugly sound. She swallowed, licked her lips, and tried again. "It flew right into my fucking eye," she managed with a look of defeat. "Wildfire's not at Moonspear anymore. I don't know where she is."

Although the news about Wildfire definitely triggered an alarm in his head—a giant red ! in the back of his mind—he didn't say anything about it. Peregrine shook his head, nudging a little closer to Fox, being very careful not to touch anywhere near the angry flesh surrounding her eye socket. He did take a closer look, though. It turned his stomach. The gore didn't bother him but imagining how much pain she was in definitely disturbed Peregrine.

"I'm no medic," he murmured, "but it looks infected." He suppressed a whine. He wished he could remember what herbs might help alleviate pain, fight infection. But then it dawned on him: all the fucking plants were gone. "We should get it clean. It will hurt... a lot." And it would be gross for him, yet Peregrine would do anything to help his mate (even if she would've thrown him out on his ass if the situation was reversed). "You up for it...?" Like she had a choice.

Even if they'd had a medic, it was unlikely that Fox would have accepted treatment. She believed it to be witchcraft and unreliable. There were few medics she had trusted, and they were all long gone (or very, very far away). She'd had a good feeling that it was infected, but hearing it from Peregrine caused her to moan... and not in a good way.

When he asked if she was "up for it," Fox clenched her jaw and steadied her head as best as she could. "Just fuckin' do it." Bracing herself for what was likely the most pain she had ever endured, Fox couldn't help but wonder what her kids would think of her when she came home looking like this.

He took no offense when she swore, grimacing bemusedly at her before ripping off the band-aid, so to speak. Peregrine would definitely block out these memories later. He had no interest in recollecting the painstaking moments during which he used his tongue to scrape pulpy gunk and pus from Fox's wounded eye. He wondered briefly if he was swallowing actual parts of her eyeball. Truthfully, the Alpha almost barfed right into her eye socket. Fortunately for her, he managed to press his lips closed at the last possible second before turning and vomiting all over their feet.

So their paws were now covered in nasty chunks... but at least Fox's injury was good and clean...?

Truthfully, Fox didn't stop to think about how horrible it would be from Peregrine's perspective. She did not envy his job, though, and she grunted and whined as he cleaned away the... well, whatever it was that was festering in her eye. She didn't dare try to open it, for fear that her eyeball would ooze out in the process. She wasn't even sure if there was an eyeball left to ooze out. Time would have to tell on that one.

"Ugh," was her only reply to the vomit now at (and on) their feet. "I want to see the kids." As much as she could see them, with her one good eye. "Are they okay? None of them are hurt, are they?"

Fox was still in a great deal of pain, but being back home felt like the only cure she could ask for. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. It hadn't yet dawned on her that there might not be plenty of food for Peregrine to bring her.

We are disgusting, Peregrine thought, his stomach still churning as he stared apologetically at their soiled paws. Fox didn't seem overly perturbed by it, though. She demanded to see the kids and asked how they were doing. He bobbed his head immediately to reassure her. After a cursory assessment, he flicked the vomit from his forepaws and moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her, on her bad side. Between the two of them, they had a good set of eyes.

"The kids are fine. Ferret thought the swarm was funny, the rest were sort of scared. We went to ground in that cave where we sheltered during that storm," Peregrine said, brushing against her in case she needed any physical support. "We made sure to keep a close eye on them," he added, wondering if Fox would remember how NJ and Wifi had disappeared (he knew her memory wasn't the best). "How about you? Where did you end up this whole time?"

The news about Ferret wasn't particularly surprising. He was the most peculiar (and the most ornery) of all the children she and Peregrine had together. He pretended to talk to squirrels, bit her nose, and apparently thought locust swarms were amusing. She was glad to hear they'd found shelter during the insect apocalypse—the same shelter they'd used during the tornado... however long ago that was. Fox vaguely recalled that being roughly around their first litter was this age, but she didn't remember any more than that.

It was awkward to walk right beside somebody she couldn't see, but Fox supposed there wasn't much else she could do. She still felt woozy, but being home definitely helped. Drinking water would help even more, and eating even more than that.

"I holed up in a cave with some smartass from Moonspear. He's the one who told me Wildfire wasn't there anymore." Fox craned her neck awkwardly to the right look at Peregrine as they continued walking, but doing so made her stumble, so she straightened back out after a near-fall. "How the fuck do you do this?" she asked, only now remembering that Perry had only one good eye. His looked completely normal, but she knew he couldn't see a thing out of it.

She brought up Wildfire again and Peregrine actually had a moment to consider their daughter's absence from her new home. She had been by here not so long ago. She'd mentioned breaking up with Floki but had seemed fine otherwise. Peregrine couldn't help but think she hadn't been as okay as she had pretended. If she'd left for that reason or any other, why hadn't she come home to the caldera? He sighed inwardly. The only wolf who could answer these questions was Wildfire herself and now they didn't have a clue where she was. All three original Firebirds were officially in the wind.

Fox's question snagged him from his thoughts. "What?" he asked dumbly, not understanding immediately. Then it clicked. "Hopefully your vision will return once it's less swollen and stuff," he said in a level tone, "but if it doesn't, it's just a matter of adaptation. You get used to it." But he dearly hoped Fox wouldn't have to deal with any of that.

I think we can archive now!

Fox didn't want to "get used to it." In fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do. She huffed, slightly insulted by nothing in particular. She was tired, hungry, and thirsty. "I need a nap," she said wearily. Not only that, but she wanted to see the kids... even if it was with only one eye. She began making her way to the rendezvous site, leaning on Peregrine for support.