Redhawk Caldera Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

The pale silhouette moved closer, the scent comfortingly familiar. She felt a slight pressure on her ribs. Towhee momentarily forgot about her predicament and tried to turn her head to get a better look, though that hurt. She gave a muffled cry of surprise, her mouth suddenly flooding with saliva. It pooled over her lower lip, dripping in ropes off either side of her chin.

Simultaneously, the warm bodily fluid melted the ice fixing her tongue to the hunk of meat. She was freed out of nowhere. Stumbling back, Towhee fell on her bottom, frantically licking her wet chops. Her tongue felt oddly stretched and sore, though there was really no harm done. Eventually, her mouth even clapped shut.

The youngster suddenly remembered her company and turned sideways to blink at her big brother. Moving with grace equal to a drunkard, she climbed back onto all fours and hopped at his nearest leg.