Blacktail Deer Plateau cicadas

backdated to 7/25

His time at the caldera had been short, and leaving had not been easy, but Phox knew @Vesper and @Peregrine would be waiting for him here. The latter more than the former at this point, but Phox believed that Vesper would come around eventually. If he didn’t have that, he might as well pack up and take his father’s namesake home. But he couldn’t give up on his youngest daughter. Not yet.

The Redhawk announced his presence with a friendly howl as he entered into the place he’d been staying the past couple of months. He couldn’t very well call it home, but it was something. Redhawk Caldera would always be home.

It was hot, dry, and something in the air tickled his throat, causing him to cough just after his howl.

Maegi was the first to meet the man, striding across the now-quite-empty plateau with an even greater emptiness within her. She mustered a smile, but only a shell of one, and it quickly faded as she remembered his purpose here.

Vesper would not go willingly. Peregrine?

I hate you. But who was to say he didn't hate Phox just as much?

Welcome back, she told the Redhawk. Her eyes shifted slowly, ears tilting to catch any sound of approaching pawsteps, whether they be her children's or her mate's. I'm sure the others will join us soon enough.

Maybe. At least for her, rousing to Phox's summons was like walking to the gallows.

@Mou let's say for timeline's sake this takes place after their convo

The look on his face is grave, filled with unease. There is a blank quality to his singular eye. Aside from this, Mou moves smoothly behind the woman wearing his wife's face until he spots the shadow that is his brother. He stops, but does not sit.

The woman speaks. The hollow quality of Mou's expression deepens, and he looks sullenly away from them both, chasing shadows with a distant stare.

Maegi approached first, then Mou arrived shortly after. Mou, quiet as ever, though there was something about him that seemed familiar today. Phox chalked it up to being around more familiar faces over the past week. That had done him a great deal of good mentally, and yet he found he was happy to be back here and to maybe make some more progress with Vesper and Peregrine. He did not know where they were now, and he looked expectantly for them, but he figured they were old enough now to spend some time on their own.

I want to thank you two for taking care of the kids. Not just for the past week, but all the time leading up to it, too. I don't know why Niamh did or said what she did, and I suppose I never will. You two acted in the kids' best interest, and I will forever be in your debt for that. I want to stay here until they want to come with me or until they're old enough to be comfortably on their own. I don't think it would be bad for you two to be involved in their lives, either.

He knew it was a lot to take in all at once, so Phox let his words hang in the air there, wondering what they would think. Would they want to remain in Peregrine and Vesper's lives? He hoped so, if only for the kids' sake. Phox couldn't very well rip the children away from their adoptive parents. It would be just as cruel as ripping them away from him.

Mou was withdrawn. Of course he was. She wanted to crawl within herself, too, but one of them needed to be present for this. Phox's words surprised her, though, and the haunted look upon her face fell away, replaced with genuine sympathy.

Thank you, Maegi murmured. I—we would love to, she amended, glancing cautiously at her mate. Again she scanned the area, looking for approaching children. None to be found.

Well, this certainly put a wrinkle in things.

I would have thought you would want to return to your family as soon as possible, she went on, her head tilting slightly in curious inquiry. If it's a matter of Peregrine and Vesper not coming. . .well, we can certainly try to convince them. Maybe all of us can go together.

The wind was entirely taken out of her sails. She had been so adamant upon dropping all children off with the Redhawks, then fucking off entirely to the Void (or whatever lay beyond). Now, those plans seemed in doubt.

By the sounds of things, everyone was getting along. To hear Phox speak of the family as if they were a part of it made Mou suddenly focus upon him, briefly coherent rather than bereaved for the coming end to everything.

It did hurt, though. Thinking of Vesper growing up without him there, of Blueberry raised as a Redhawk without her true mother, of his father's namesake becoming as mighty as the stories of the original Peregrine, which had once been taught to Mou and Phox when they were very small themselves - a lifetime ago, more than that maybe.

And he would miss it all.

But they would grow up to be better than him; better for their connections to the Redhawks, rather than the cursed ghosts who tried so hard to find love in all the wrong places, who haunted the living even now.

Mou looked to the woman-shape next, hearing the empty words Maegi's doppleganger spoke, and nodded in silent acceptance. He would make sure they had no other choice. It was for the greater good — and history had shown that Mou wasn't included within that realm.

Mou remained quiet, though Maegi spoke with gratitude and sympathy. In fact, she suggested exactly what he had proposed to Towhee: that they all go back to Redhawk Caldera together. Could it work? Could the kids and Mou and Maegi and the rest of the Redhawks really live under one "roof" again? It had felt like a pipe dream, but now it felt like something else: hope.

Peregrine and Vesper are my family, too. You and Mou are family by association at this point, Phox said, still blissfully ignorant of who Mou's connection to his own past. And why would he remember him? It had been years upon years since Phox had seen him, and the two of them had been so very different back then. Children, playing children's games.

Now, Phox was a grandfather.

Mou? Phox asked him directly, What do you think?

Maegi often did all the talking, but this was something bigger, and Phox felt he needed some kind of confirmation from the pups' guardian before he made any more solid plans.

Family by association. It stung like teeth across her muzzle, and in any other moment, she may have rejoined him, bristling, with fiery words. But the fight had gone out of Maegi, and she bore the (perceived) insult with further sagging shoulders.

After all—none of it would matter soon enough.

She turned her mismatched gaze to Mou, wondering what he would have to say. . .if anything. He'd been quiet and withdrawn, too, since her suggestion the other day. She wondered if his heart was truly in it. She did not want to take a life that wasn't willing to go, least of all his. But she couldn't well abandon him, either.

Say we should go, Maegi silently pleaded, eyes boring into his skull. Say we should go to the Redhawks, and drag the children along by force if we have to.

They waited on him.

Mou looked to Phox with what might be considered timidity, his good eye half-lidded as he glanced quickly at his brother.

We go. it was what they wanted. The children would protest, undoubtedly. But with three adults to contend with there was nothing they could do to substantially change their fate.

Take them home. Mou nods, then turns away, giving little chance for any further conversation. The longer he is there with the woman, trying to contain his sorrows, the less he feels in control.

He stalks off after that, leaving Maegi and Phox to deliberate further if need be.

Phox sensed a change in Maegi, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Did I—but Mou answered his question, and Phox was distracted by the answer enough to forget the change in the guardian.

So it would be: Vesper and Peregrine would come to live at the caldera. Maegi and Mou would come, too. Phox couldn't even squeeze in a last word to the masked wolf, who abruptly left them.

Is he okay? Phox asked, concern lacing his voice.

She nodded as her mate spoke, fervently agreeing. Her gaze followed him, watching him go, then snapped back to Phox as he spoke. Jaw hung slightly, face struck in an 'are you kidding me?' sort of expression.

Are any of us? Maegi shot back, then shook her head. 

The wraith began to walk away, but not before she turned to Phox once more. I'll work on them, she promised, the faintest edge of steel in her voice. We'll leave soon. She turned tail, then, stepping stiffly 'cross the plateau.

How could he not understand? How could any of them be okay?

Sire he may be by blood, but that Phox was under the delusion that he was these pups' father—

Delusional. Typical Redhawk.

cameo for the threadlog~

she ignored his summons at first, opting to pretend he did not exist— it was much the same treatment she gave her brother after he spewed his vitriol at their mother. easier to cope by just excising them both from her heart. phox was not her father, would never be, full stop. and if peregrine chose him over those that raised him, well, vesper had no forgiveness for the disloyal.

her family was mou and maegi and blueberry. perhaps prevost, if she were ever to return, but as the darkling's brain continued to develop and she grew closer and closer to adulthood, the memories of her other sister were fading, the feelings and attachment she felt, fading.

but curiosity got the best of the bat-eared pup, and she slunk towards the source. she settled within the shadows of a shrub, orange eyes peering out sullenly, only close enough to hear the conversation. if the adults had sensed her, they let her be— perhaps knowing by now that pushing her would only lead to more pain and bitterness.

they were going, then. she clenched her jaw, but knew a tantrum would be useless. it had not prevented them from leaving the island, and would not change things now. vesper wouldn't do it for phox, would take her leave now if there was a demand that she leave father and mother— but they would come, too, and that was what mattered most to the youth. she would do anything for them.

her parents departed, but she remained for a time, watching phox with bitter eyes. and then she crept quietly from the shrub, following the lingering smell of mou and maegi back to their makeshift den.

Phox frowned at Maegi's question. It was true. None of them were okay. He wasn't sure they ever would be. The kids had come into this world with turmoil, and it was all they had ever known. Between losing their mother so early, to being moved to and fro over and over again.

Thank you, he said, watching as the two of them disappeared into the brush.