Heron Lake Plateau Horns and halos.

The place still reeked of Redhawks, in a way that made Towhee unexpectedly nostalgic. She climbed the familiar earthen ramp from its base to the plateau proper, then made her way to the lake. She didn't even slow as she waded into the water, then swam across to The Roost. She only came to a stop once she was standing over her sister's burial site.

She lowered herself to the ground beside the grave, simply enjoying the quiet and occasionally drifting through her memories of Orca. At some point, she must have fallen asleep because she woke to the gentle patter of rain. Towhee pushed herself into a sit, rolling her shoulders and cracking her back as she prepared to head home.

Before she could dip her toes back into the water, movement overhead caught her eye. Towhee's mouth fell ajar as she saw a familiar hawk winging from a nearby treetop and quickly disappearing into the distance. She couldn't help herself; she threw back her head and howled, the horrible yowl probably disturbing everyone in all three sister packs. But X did not reappear.

Time and time again, this place brought Whip Redhawk back like some foul curse. Despite familiar soil, it wasn't the same -- it would never be the same. He'd told himself this truth time and time again, yet he continually found himself believing in a farce. He held on when there was nothing left to hold on to; this fragile picture of a family that no longer existed. Grief went unprocessed. Pent up for years, it weighed Whip down like a malignant tumor. Festering. Rotting.

He was an empty vessel. Full of holes, he leaked like a sieve.

Gannet filled the empty spaces for a time. Family, close family, was in short supply in Whip's experience. It had been a pleasant time. One Whip believed was an oasis, but it was only a mirage. His brother's company, comfort and happiness, all of it was fleeting. Impermanent. In perpetual flux. It was why he found it so easy to fall for the lie he told himself. If he could return... if he could just say goodbye... He could swear he smelled them, but the mind liked to play tricks.

However, a sharp yap pierced the air. Completely unintelligible, yet familiar. Whip's ears rotated forward in attention. He'd finally come home.

She called out again, then waited, but the hawk did not return. The rain began to fall faster and harder, so Towhee had no choice but to quit The Roost, swim back to the shore, then begin making her way home. With every few steps, she looked skyward, blinking rain from her eyes as she searched for that once familiar shadow...

But her fruitless stargazing came to an abrupt end when she spotted a figure near the plateau's base, where it melded into the nearby thicket. Towhee couldn't help it; the wet fur along her back and shoulders prickled and her tail raised. It was an old, ingrained habit, a muscle memory. But she did remember herself and assumed a more neutral posture by the time she closed the distance.

"-If you're looking for the Red—"- she began to say when Towhee did a double take. She knew him. This was one of her many wayward siblings. But it had been so long, she could neither place his name, nor how she felt about him. Orange eyes staring now, she finished her sentence. -"—hawks, they've moved to the glade due south of here. Only they're the Frosthawks now."- Her lips twisted a little.

Yet again, a clumsy call was sounded. This time however, Whip was sure of its souce. Like nails upon a chalkboard, her voice was a grating thing to the untrained ear -- yet Whip bore no grimace upon his world worn face. He was easily drawn to familiar things, and though his time with Towhee had been a brief snapshot of an otherwise disappointing life, she was but an idealized remnant of better times and innocence among the Redhawk clan. It was the illusion he chased. He followed her than, letting her voice lead his way back home.

She found him there upon the plateau's cusp. Much had changed. She limped, bearing some grave injury of unknown cause, but her face remained the same. Whip never forgot their faces; the ones he'd wronged, the ones he'd disappointed. They haunted him still. He should have told her then, long ago before he'd abandoned the Redhawk clan in the wake of the war with Blackfeather: I will only disappoint you. Yet, it was the past. He could not take his shortcomings back, no matter how much he wished to.

Whip could see the faint glimmer of recognition spark in the her metallic, orange eyes. Gears turned in her head, but skipped and stuttered over worn down teeth. Whip could only hope she didn't remember him. It was his hope to be only a whisper. Yet alas, she remembered something. "I don't know what I'm looking for," Whip answered honestly. He'd never known what he sought, be it the love of his family, or the fear of strangers. Yet, he couldn't help but feel it something definable, tangible. Hidden behind a veil, he didn't have the means to uncover his heart's desire. 

"But you're here," he observed obliquely. "Are you outriding, or are you not with the--" a beat followed. The word felt hollow on his tongue, as if to speak its name was to besmirch Peregrine's legacy itself. "--Frosthawks anymore?"

He's that guy... that looks like that other guy... the one who was deaf in one ear... Towhee's mind stirred through the muddy memories, though she still couldn't quite place him. She was almost positive they'd talked about killing just before the war. But he hadn't been part of it and hadn't come here with them. Had he run off too? Looking back, it seemed like many of Towhee's brothers had disappeared all at once, just ahead of the fighting.

But Phox had come back and she'd forgiven him. She'd even forgiven Screech, formerly Titmouse, once. Her eyelashes fluttered as she thought about how her relationships with her litter mates could not have been more different. In any case, she wasn't as unyielding as in the past and, well, she couldn't fucking remember jack about this guy, so...

-"I'm here visiting my sister's grave,"- Towhee replied. Our sister? she mentally corrected, shaking her head lightly. -"The Redhawks have pretty much split into three parts: the Frosthawks in the glade; the Firebirds in the copse; and then there's us over in Asterism Grove."- As she spoke, she pointed in the direction of each pack.

Her orange eyes returned to his face. -"I know your face but I can't remember your name."- Towhee made no apology for this. She wasn't the one who'd vanished into the ether. -"I'm Towhee,"- she did think to mention, in case he remembered her as well as she did him, i.e., barely at all.

A year had passed. In the time Whip wasted wallowing in his misery, he'd missed so much. "S-sister's grave?" he stammered. It was all too easy to take family for granted, to assume they'd always be around when the progidal son chose to return. The revelation crashed down upon Whip in one sorrowful wave. After all, closure was never guaranteed. It was foolish to believe otherwise, but knowing the truth did not dull the pain. In fact, it made it sharper.

Whether it was Wildfire or Raven, or one of Towhee's littermates, the tragedy was all the same. It was still family. Blood. He bit his lip, but kept a strong face. He bottled it up and let it add to the pressure. In his chest was an autoclave where nothing could live, for the wilds were not forgiving of weakness. It was yet another lesson so keenly learned. She pointed to the pack lands as he shoved his emotions down, into the depths where they belonged.

A breath.

"Whip-poor-will Redhawk," he answered. With some hesitance, he took a tentitive step toward his sister. A long beat followed, perhaps where an apology should rest, yet Whip had never been one for tact. "They shouldn't have changed the name," he said flatly.

Dude, your writing is just... mmf.

Towhee made no reply to his tremulous question. Between the rain and his stutter, she didn't even catch the first word and what was there to say about graves? He'd missed several losses and she had been close enough to Orca to know they couldn't possibly have known one another well. Her only acknowledgement was a small nod, nothing more.

He gave his full name and it did jog her memory a bit. -"No,"- she agreed before thinking to add, with an edge of defensiveness, -"and I'm still Towhee Redhawk, for the record. That will never change."- She signed the word "never" particularly fiercely. -"Phox, Fig and Fen are all Redhawks by blood and name as well."- She wasn't usually one to overshare, though the surname was a point of contention for her lately, to say the least.

-"But why are you here?"- was the obvious next question. He'd already said he didn't know what he was looking for but surely there was some reason he'd come here and she would press it. And Towhee abruptly realized he'd found his way here, rather than to the caldera, or had he gone there first? How had he found them? And why?

That means so much, you have no idea <3

There, in Towhee's golden eyes, Whip could see the flicker of recognition turn tangibly solid. Whip could hardly discern whether this was a blessing or a curse. He'd abandoned them in a pivital moment -- walking out at the height of war. There was no greater dishonor than desertion. Yet, Whip never proclaimed to be an honorable man. He did what he had to, anything to survive. The lengths he went to were immeasurable, and in his wake, only discord and ruin followed. A guilty shadow weighed him down. Still, the ghosts of the past haunted his dreams.

Would she hold it against him should she know the secrets he kept? He wouldn't blame her if she did. They were family of course, but the binds of blood were only so thick. He only hoped that she saw a man before her, and not a monster.

"Good," he muttered then, pleased with her conviction. He clung to the last shreds of the Redhawk legacy like a life raft, begging, save me. It weren't so simple, nor would Whip admit such vulnerability, even to family. There was power in the illusion of strength. For a time, Whip had even believed the lie himself.

Still, she turned her questions inward. "I --" Whip started, casting empty silver eyes along the lake. He thought of all the things he wanted. Safety. Stability. A friend. All seemed so far away, even now. "I thought maybe I could come home."

Her face remained stoic when he declared his purpose, tentatively. -"The home you knew doesn't exist anymore,"- she replied, though not coldly. It was just a fact. -"You could visit with each of the sister packs, see which one is the best fit."- Of course, Towhee could've attempted to take him back to Asterism Grove with her, yet she wasn't sure if she wanted to take that risk. He'd left at least once. No, twice, she corrected silently, knowing he hadn't been there when she'd been growing up. Her lips pursed.

Phox had vanished around the same time and the two of them were thick as thieves nowadays, starting aforementioned pack together. After a pregnant pause, Towhee said, -"We could start at the grove, if you want. I'm headed back there now. Have you met Phox before?"-