Redhawk Caldera Don't tell me it tastes like chicken.

She probably shouldn't be surprised that the pups were cursing like sailors these days, considering her own recent uptick in swearing. Towhee playfully quirked a brow and then joked, -Yo, watch your mouth.- It was funny (to her, anyway) because he hadn't spoken the epithet. Would Tegan get the joke?

The yearling could see Colt's mouth moving out of the corner of her eye so she turned to him in time to catch everything after "head honcho." His remark made her pause and reflect back to their first encounter. He was clearly being sarcastic (something she picked up on fairly well despite her disability) but she didn't consider their meet-cute particularly memorable.

"I never hit it off with anyone the first time," Towhee quipped dryly. "You're still here," she pointed out to him, remembering her promise to give him the boot if he didn't prove his worth. She couldn't really say she knew much about him and his contributions other than his participation in the war. But as far as she was concerned, anyone who'd been there on the front lines was worthy of respect, full stop.

Facing Tegan again, Towhee signed, -No assholes besides these ones.- She grinned as she gestured at him, Colt and herself. Out loud, she added, "But X told me he spotted a weird half-bird, half-rabbit critter about half a mile from here. Think it might be a yamalam, Teg?"