Heron Lake Plateau Flavor cats (in the comfort zone)

To a certain point, Quixote didn't really think that it was any skill of his.  It was survival, a desire to not be dead yet in case things might improve.  It hadn't.  Kind of had to be or I probably wouldn't be here now.  Wasn't like I had much of a choice -- you figure out what's needed to survive.  I just dunno if it's worth bothering to try and set up a squads here or something too -- not as serious, of course, but if some other bad neighbor showed up, it'd be nice to have done already.  But we're also in the middle of nowhere.  Living that way in the past wasn't his choice.  Now?  He didn't know what he'd do or what would be good.  So many things had changed -- there was always the past, but what would be best for his future?  What would be best for his soon-to-be family?  If he didn't have to worry about Towhee wrecking relationships with any future neighbors, did he have to be formally recognized as some sort of diplomat?  Should he focus more on hunting?  What would he have done if he'd grown up elsewhere?  Far too many questions that he didn't know how to answer.

He nodded, Yeah, just lemme know some time after I've healed some more.  Can always help if there's something in particular you want to work on.  Although, at least for the near future there just wasn't going to be a good time.  Too much was going to happen that would throw him far enough off track that he'd probably forget the offer had even been there.