Redhawk Caldera The kids aren't alright

He had been resting for a week, recovering from his wound and reeling from the mental and emotional tolls of the altercation. Ferret had tried not only to overthrow him but to kill him in cold blood. He had forced Peregrine's hand and very likely sealed his own doom. As bitter as the Alpha felt, as much as he even disliked Ferret, he was sorry it had ever come down to that. Moreover, it worried him that there was something wrong with his genes. Over the past several days, he had come to the silent conclusion that he shouldn't father any more children. He knew he should talk to @Fox but he was well aware she would end things on the spot, so for the time-being, he (sadly) kept it to himself.

Peregrine allowed himself to dwell but, a week after the fact, he decided it was time to stop looking back and face forward. With a grunt, he rose from his warm sleeping spot at the edge of the rendezvous site and slowly wound downhill, minding the thick scabs near his neck as well as the older ones on his right shoulder. He silently cursed Ferret, caught himself and quite literally dragged his jade gaze forward and outward, enjoying a view of the late summer sun glistering off Lake Rodney in the distance.

He meant to head toward the borders but the twinging in his battered body warned him to take it easy, so instead he slowed and parked himself about halfway down the caldera's slope. With a quiet sigh, he lowered himself to his haunches and tried to clear his mind. Peregrine did succeed in banishing thoughts of Ferret, though he now found himself wondering about @Jackrabbit. He had clearly seen the boy approach him that day, only to turn his back and walk away. No one had seen him since, Peregrine included. He didn't have the energy to go looking for him and something else stopped him short too: that blank look on the youngster's face. It ate at him but he was just going to have to let that—and him, by the looks of it—go too.

Another sigh escaped him.

FINE.

If Peregrine had said he didn't want any more kids, Fox probably would have dropped him on the spot. However, if he had said that some of his kids were "bad seeds," she would have rolled her eyes, chalked it up to luck of the draw, and enticed him into some baby-making practice (which, admittedly, they hadn't been doing much of lately). She had stuck by his side through thick and thin—never mind the times she'd almost dropped him for being an ass and/or getting old—and he had done the same. So long as he was still a contributing member of the pack and could give her children, she was happy to be with him. They'd been through two years together, maybe more, and she wasn't about to lose that.

The incident a week ago had rattled her, to say the least, but perhaps it had rattled her out of the funk she'd been in for... well, a long time. The air was growing cooler, the leaves were beginning to drop from the trees, and autumn would be in full swing soon enough. Fox took in a deep breath, and a hint of Peregrine's scent came with it. The corners of her mouth turned upward in a smile, and she trotted toward him.

"Hey..." she said, trailing off a bit. "How're you feeling?" He couldn't be "great," but hopefully he was feeling at least a little bit better.

When Fox approached, he thought of baring his soul after all, though he bit his tongue. Instead, he offered her a welcoming smile and replied, "Um, better." Peregrine paused to think it over more. "I don't miss him," he blurted abruptly, a guilty look passing over his face before it settled back into a more or less blank expression. "Ferret, I mean. I do miss Jack. Where the hell did he go?" he wondered out loud, knowing Fox wouldn't have any more answers than him.

He gazed out over the lake for a moment, then turned back and motioned for Fox to come closer and cuddle. "How are you?" he wanted to know. Her son had nearly killed her mate, forcing Peregrine to banish him. And Jackrabbit had belonged to both of them. This all had to be tough on her too.

Fox's first assumption had been Ferret. She didn't miss him. Just as she didn't miss Raven or Nightjar. They were old enough to be on their own. Ferret had proven that he was, too. If he could attack his own goddamn father, he was definitely old enough to get kicked to the curb. It was unfortunate that their masked son had turned out so rotten, but perhaps being away from them would turn a new leaf for him. Maybe he would find peace elsewhere, and Redhawk Caldera would also find peace once again.

Jack, on the other hand... "I miss him, too. I don't know where he went. Did we fail him? Did we fail Peter, too?" Fox felt she had failed this entire litter, in a way. Ever since Peter's death, she'd been a total mess, barely able to function. That would answer his second question, too. She felt like a failure.

Fox echoed his sentiments. He didn't reply to her question right away. No, thought to himself, none of this is your fault. I'm the one with the fucked up genes. Peregrine didn't voice his thoughts aloud, though. Slowly, he shook his head and sighed. He felt sadness was through him. Truth be told, he did think of Peter's death as their faults. He blamed himself more than anyone else but he held his pack responsible for it too. It never should've happened.

But he wasn't about to lay that guilt trip on his mate, nor did he feel the same way about Jack, so he said that. "With Jack especially, I don't think we did. We offered him a home. He was there that day, after Ferret attacked me. He looked right at me, then left. I haven't seen him since." There was a grim note in his voice the more he spoke. He could feel his heart hardening toward the youth. Although he remembered that Jack had lost his parents, so maybe he had just reacted poorly to the Alpha's trauma.

Heaving another sigh, Peregrine leaned into his petite counterpart. "Let's not play the blame game," he said lightly. "Let's talk about something happier." As far as suggestions went, though, he came up empty. Normally he might have recommended they focus on their next litter but of course he felt rather bitter about that subject at the moment.

Fox's mouth twisted when she heard that Jack had been there that day. She had been so wrapped up in making sure that her mate was okay that she hadn't been able to pay attention to anything else. Peregrine was her rock, and she couldn't imagine life without him. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to worry about that. If there was one thing that could be said of the Redhawk patriarch, it was that he could survive anything. He had proven that time and time again. Although she had to admit that she had been worried when he'd lost that much blood.

When Peregrine suggested they talk about something happier, her mind immediately went to next year's children, but... well, that wasn't really a subject she wanted to breach right now. They'd lost half of them this year—over half, if she included Jack—and she didn't want to think about those she'd lose next year. Her mind wandered for a little while longer, though the silence didn't feel awkward (to her).

"We have a good group here," she concluded, the faces of those she trusted most coming to mind. Finley and Elwood were at the top of that list, followed by Shrike, Sassafras, Eljay, and even Trick. "And the two kids we do have seem to be doing alright." Of course, her opinion of that would change very, very soon.

After a short spell of silence, Fox spoke of the great group of wolves they could call part of their pack. Peregrine nodded his silent agreement. They did have a very strong core of valuable members. He grimaced but then managed to laugh lightly at her remark about two of their kids. Gannet seemed decently normal and well-adjusted but Whip was beginning to remind him a bit of Junior, what with being so sullen and withdrawn. He wasn't about to mention that out loud, though. Hopefully he could somehow reach the kid before he went off the reservation like his doomed half-sister.

"You know what, though?" the Alpha said after another beat of silence. "Although they are great and even though this place is wonderful too..." He trailed off for a moment, leaning gently into Fox. "As long as I've got you, everything's good." He nipped fondly at the ear closest to him, then rested his chin right over his petite mate's brow, pressing himself until they were touching from head to hip to tail tip.

Fox couldn't help but simultaneously roll her eyes at Peregrine's overly-sentimental statement and grin from ear to red ear. Throughout everything, Perry had been her rock. Ever since he had given her shelter at the plateau, he had never once wavered from her side. (The same couldn't be said about her, considering she'd almost kicked him to the curb on numerous occasions... every one of them justified thankyouverymuch!) She put just enough space between them so she could return his ear-nibble with one of her very own, and for the first time in months, she actually felt... a little bit frisky?

Perhaps all the grief was finally dwindling down. "Are you... out of commission?" she asked, a smirk replacing her wide grin. He was surely still healing, but could he get a little down a dirty?

In retrospect, his words made no sense. Peregrine snorted quietly to himself, shaking his head lightly. But he was pretty sure the sentiment was clear. She meant a lot to him. She was his partner in life and the center of his universe. That hadn't wavered since the day they'd declared themselves.

He hesitated slightly at her implication. She wasn't in heat, so there was no danger of knocking her up right now. Slowly, a smile lit his salt-and-pepper features. "I may be old, I may be beat up, but I'll never let anything as stupid as all that get between me and that firecrotch," he growled.

All thoughts of Ferret, Jack and even his still healing wounds drained out of him as the Alpha grabbed at his mate, trying to hook a foreleg around her hip to spin her into place.

He whisked her around, and Fox made no attempt to stop him. Any thought of worries were quickly replaced with pleasant, mindless motions. She could not even recall the last time they'd boned, though she was fairly certain it was to conceive their latest litter. Perhaps that contributed to her sullen mood all these months. Things slowed, her breathing began to steady, and when all was said and done, she flopped onto the ground with a content smile on her face.

Roughly three seconds after hitting the ground, Fox was snoring nice and loud.