Redhawk Caldera this might not be the best time but i have something to say

It was impossible to call for Towhee directly—at most, she could be reached via a messenger of the four-footed or winged varieties—but sometimes, she just happened to be in the right place at the right time. At the moment, she was a bit like a lidded pot of boiling water as she roved the borders; the water was hot, roiling and steaming but, for the moment, kept under careful control.

That all changed when she saw Finley apprehending a figure near the borders. Towhee froze to watch a moment, her sharp orange eyes reading the situation. She was well-versed in body language, naturally, and didn't need any extra reason to fire up these days. In the blink of an eye, the pot boiled over and the the mercenary burst forward like a bullet from a gun.

Assuming that Finley had already given a verbal warning to go along with the cues she was giving off with her body, Towhee didn't bother offering one herself. She wanted—maybe even needed—to kill something and the war was still days away. Here was her opportunity to satisfy that predatory urge, as well as get in some last-minute practice as an executioner. She threw herself ruthlessly at the thin stranger with every intention of ripping out her throat.