The Floodlands You never go to parties.

She visibly bit her lip at his hesitation. Towhee found herself wishing he seemed more enthused by the idea, but Quixote just seemed caught off guard and deeply uncomfortable. For now, she decided to back off. Anyway, he distracted her by mentioning a conversation with Colt. Her ears pricked as if they worked, then folded uncertainly. It sounded like they'd not only been discussing her competence but the Betas' as well. She felt a flash of anger on their behalf, though she quelled it to respond to Quixote's question.

"He attacked me—or tried to. X stopped him. He harped on me for being a deaf leader, but couldn't provide specific examples of where I've come up short. He mostly seemed pissed off about X," Towhee told him. "He basically made it out like I'm a terrible leader. And you—do you feel the same...?" she inferred, ears folding backward and orange eyes darkening. But before he could reply, she added, "I told him that if he couldn't accept my leadership, he should leave." There was a weight to her pause as her orange eyes bored into the Gamma. "So he did."