Okay, he needed to step up his game. He was starting to go stir-crazy and that wasn't going to do anyone any favors. Ambrose knew that his real issue was with Bruges — that he needed to follow through with their arrangement and meet up with him, and that he'd already missed the deadline by a few days. But he wasn't ready to admit defeat. So what if he wasn't a high ranking member of this pack! So what if he hadn't gotten laid yet! And so fucking what if Bruges wanted to lay in to him for it. He anticipated so much backlash that it kept him from leaving the territory, but he decided that Bruges could suck it.

At least, that's what he told himself as he skulked about the lakeside.

Whatever had him so down in the dumps, it paled in comparison to what was affecting Towhee, and he realized that when she spoke and he turned to look at her, stirred from his thoughts. The events of the past week or so didn't go right over his head. Ambrose had heard talk about the return of some of the wolves, and on occasion Niamh could confide things in him. It wasn't often, since she was so busy all the time, but he got the gist of it. And unfortunately, he couldn't help the look of pity that slipped across his overly expressive face when he realized who had called out to him.

But he tried to smile anyways. What? Me? I'm good. Been pretty quiet around here — for me. Ambrose didn't usually stumble over his words and he knew he sounded like a total asshole right now, and trying to be friendly would only mean talking more and then risk being more of an asshole, so he buttoned up pretty quickly. Then, somewhat randomly, he tried to sign: -Niamh show me talking- but clearly Ambrose wasn't skilled with that yet. Still, he tried.

She motioned some things back to him, of which he could make out "good" but by the look of slightly overwhelmed confusion that slipped over his face, he must have exhausted most of his repetoire with the phrase he'd signed himself. Still, an easy grin slipped over his face and he let out a little chuckle.

I'd like that. He said.
Have you always been — y'know—? he flicked his ears and did a little side-to-side head bob to reference his own ears; perhaps it was indelicate of him to bring her deafness to light but Ambrose didn't mean any harm by it, he was genuinely curious. 

That, and impressed. She could speak very well for someone with an impairment and she'd even created a language for everyone to use — she was smart as well as driven, and those were good qualities to have, thought Ambrose.

Ah, so she was born like that. There were worse things to be born with, he thought. At least she had all her limbs, and her eyes, and her ears were there they just didn't want to function. What if she'd been born with two faces? Ambrose tried to picture what Towhee would look like with such a disfigurement but it made him feel kind of sick to his stomach; thankfully she was still born pretty enough to pass as a normal person.

He naturally squinted when he thought of her face being all twisted up like that, though, and that timed with her question. Ambrose had to think quickly lest he blurt out the truth — he wasn't exactly accustomed to lying after all — and so he said, I suck.

A beat later and he elucidated, I'm kinda bummed out because I thought I'd be more accomplished by now. Niamh and I have always been really competitive, and she's — well, she's winning, and I.. I'm still just puttering along. And that was mostly true; he sincerely wished he could be as good as Niamh at this pack thing, which helped his efforts in concealing his deal with Bruges.

Ugh, Bruges. Just the thought of him soured his already tart mood.