Dragoncrest Cliffs make like a tree and shelter a bunch of birds

Itchy seems to be an understatement. Étoille studies the raw patch of flesh near her tail for a moment. "I as well," he finally says, letting his gaze slowly move back to her face. "Fleas," the man adds as explanation. It is, he supposes, embarrassing, but there is nothing to be done for it now. And perhaps choupinou has been struggling with similar strife. 

Étoille takes a seat facing her, glancing out over the cliffs. "How have you been otherwise?" he asks, recalling their last conversation, that Furi has been struggling to feel at home. He hopes she has been able to settle somewhat - he hopes she is happy here.