Redhawk Caldera it is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun

He'd never felt so sad in his life.

He lay just outside the borders of Brecheliant, unsure of his welcome here. Probably overthinking it—many of them were his family, after all—but he'd defaulted to the utmost of wolf courtesy.

Killdeer lay flat upon the earth, head upon his outstretched paws, and sobbed. Caracal, gone. Bronco, gone. And now, the guilt upon leaving Fennec to her own devices was cresting, too.

The sheer volume of these losses was absolutely crushing him, and he found it difficult to move.

So here he was, left to his own devices, tears turning the dirt to mud. Heart throbbing, pounding, skipping beats as if it wanted to join its fallen counterparts.

Dad, he whispered, intermittently, choking back wails that would shiver across the caldera.

She had seen her Dad one last time. Mom and Ponyboy had too. She was sure that Boris knew, and if he didn't, he would soon.

What was it? A sign that everything was going to be alright? A symbol of his love? That he was there, with them, where eyes could not see?

The answer was perhaps, all of it.

It gave the teenager clarity. But also added another layer of confusion and heartache. To have seen him one last time. So real and close. But so brief. She hadn't even managed to hug him, to cry into the rugged warmth of his fur.

How was she supposed to cope, now?

She moved, numbly towards the borders. Her father's eyes distant and clouded. She only slowed to a standstill when she heard the quiet sobbing. The man from last night, at the den. The one who also called Bronco, Dad. 

Her eyes cleared. She felt a pull to him. If Bronco was his Dad, was he related to her, too? Surely he had to be. She padded closer softly, quietly. An air of unsureness about herself. Bronte forced herself to lay down in front of him, their positions mirrored.

"How? How do we heal from this now?" Her voice a shaken whisper, desperate for answers, but expecting none.

He didn't expect her. His. . .sister. Yes. They shared blood through Bronco, and Killdeer looked up through bleary, bloodshot eyes, glancing over the cream-pelted girl.

How do we heal from this now?

Killer sighed, shaking his head, pressing his forehead back against his paws.

I. . .don't know, he mumbled. I've lost my best friend and my dad, now, in not a long time. And I don't know how to handle it.

His gaze drifted up to her face, apologetic. I'm sorry I don't have any more answers.

Her eyes fell, as did his. He had no more answers than she did. She shook her head, dismissing his apology. 

"No. I don't expect any of us to have the answers. I just hoped...maybe..."

She trailed off, listening to the sound of his choked voice. His sobs.

"I know the feeling. But at least...you knew him longer than I did? I think?" At least she and her now older brother were in the same boat.

"There's just...so much I dreamt of. So much I looked forward to, as I grew up. Now...now he won't be a part of any of it." She tried to hold back her own tears. She closed the last few inches between them, hoping that he would allow the comfort of a siblings touch.

They both were hurting terribly. Maybe this was how they'd heal.

She was smart, well-spoken. Not to slight his father, but he thought her emotional solidity might come from Teya rather than Bronco. And he admired it, in this moment.

Killdeer felt his chest tighten at her words, and he shook his head.

I'm really sorry, he replied, and leaned into her touch, gathering the girl into his embrace. I did know him longer—but it's complicated. And I guess he just wasn't around long enough for either of us.

He let out a breath that shivered on a sob. But I'm here. I—

Killer broke his sentence off and pulled away, laughing slightly. Oh, my God. I don't even know your name, I just realized, he admitted, looking sheepish. I'm so sorry. Can you remind me. . .?

What an ass he was.

"It's really okay. We've all lost a wonderful man and a father, so at least we ain't in this alone." The older wolf that she now knew as a brother said he had known their Dad for a little longer than she had. "I'm just gonna miss him. We all are. There was so much I was looking forward to. And now...it's just gone..."

Realization struck her as he confessed in not knowing her name. "Hey it's alright. To be fair, I don't know yours either." She settled close, enjoying being near someone she knew shared her own blood. "I'm Bronte. The gold boy with the notch in his ear is Ponyboy, one of my brothers. And then there's Boris. He's around here somewhere."

If she was emotionally Teya's, her cadence of speech was much like Bronco's. He found himself relaxing into the ease of it as he filed away the trio of names for safekeeping. 

Killdeer, he replied, smiling. Killer for short, if you like. Though I guess it's kind of morbid, he added, brow furrowing. He'd never really thought of that before. It had just been a cutesy nickname.

He regarded Bronte with honey-warm eyes, curiosity piqued. Tell me about yourself, and your brothers, Killer went on. What do you like to do? Where's your favorite places on the caldera?

She tipped her head slightly. Then smiled back. "I um, think I call you Killdeer." Killer was a little too off putting, just yet. Though it seemed quirky names and nicknames were common in the family. 

Glancing down at her paws, laying inches from his own, she considered her answer. "Well...Ponyboy and I have always been pretty outgoing. Until Dad passed..." She breathed a small sigh. "He goes off on his own, more these days. He's taking it hard."

"Boris...I dunno how he is coping. He's always been a homebody. A gentle soul." She really did not know what Boris did these days. But she let him be, waiting until chose to show up.

"Me...I try and get out and about more often. I want to explore beyond the caldera...make more friends. I think the island on the lake is pretty cool, but I have never been there yet. I uh, also like visiting the tree that marks where Dad is buried. Makes me feel close to him."

He smiled, but it faded into something more serious as she told him of his siblings. It had hit them hard, seemingly. And she was right—they hadn't been given the chance to know him as he had, and never would.

But the tree—there was that.

Will you take me there, sometime? Killdeer asked, cocking his head. I haven't been. We can go together, and talk to him.

After the events of the past month, he wouldn't be at all surprised if Bronco heard them. . .wherever the man was.

A part of Bronco lived on, in each and every one of his children. Bronte may not understand the true depth of the concept yet, but she sure as heck would try to keep his flame burning bright. She hoped her brothers would let Killdeer get close, to pass on the torch.

"Of course I would!" She exclaimed, visibly brightening for the first time in a long time. She even sat upright, taking a moment to look at the sky around them. The light was starting to fade. Soon, the stars would come out. "I can take you there anytime you want. Will...will you be staying with us, here?" Hope crept into her voice. One life had slipped through her paws. Now another had entered.

She would not let go.

He rose as well, ready to follow. At her question, he paused a moment—but though his voice was halting, his heart was not.

Maybe, Killdeer replied, just to play it safe. If Brecheliant will have me. . .I'd like to stick around. To get to know you all, and your mom.

Killdeer gave the girl a soft smile, dipping his chin. I'll let you lead the way, he went on, tail swaying behind him.