A/N: Companion piece to my other story, 'Dreaming.' Works on its own though, a drabble in its own right. Set after the third book. Fang centered.
It wasn't much. Just a pile of stones, in the middle of nowhere. But it had been built in memory of Ari, acknowledged that he had existed, for however short a time. Max had insisted they build it. No one argued. It hadn't taken long, only a few hours to pile up the rocks to maybe six feet.
There was a collective moment of silence from the Flock before Max sighed and turned away. "OK, we're done, let's move out," she barked, with all of her usual tact. One by one the Flock took off, until it was just Max and Fang.
"You go," he muttered. "I'll catch up in a moment." She nodded, and soared gracefully off to join the others in the clear, free Canadian sky.
For some reason, Fang found he couldn't look at the small cairn directly. "Thanks," he muttered, his eyes on his feet. "For taking care of her, I mean. Not that she needs it, but…" he trailed off. He sighed unhappily. "Look, I'm sorry I misjudged you. I was wrong. I shouldn't have left, I should've been there, helping fight the whitecoats, but I wasn't, so… thanks. For keeping her… them… all of them… safe. I owe you one." He bowed his head briefly, and spread his wings, eager to rejoin his Flock, his family. They'd be waiting for him.