Heron Lake Plateau Give the girl a gold star

She said nothing as Niamh spoke in turn, her orange eyes fixed astutely on her friend's lips. She appreciated her Person's reassurances, even if she didn't necessarily agree with her. Towhee did think she'd made a mistake—a big one—and was now paying the price for indulging what came down to a stupid whimsy. Niamh validated her feelings and reminded her of her support, which earned another faint, fleeting smile from Towhee.

"Thanks, that means a lot. As does the whole godmother thing," Towhee said, still trying to steer the subject back to pups now that she'd unburdened herself. She motioned for Niamh to keep moving, then resumed her dragging shuffle. "I was raised by mine, which I'm pretty sure you know. I know that's not going to happen here"—she gave her friend a look as if to say, Don't you dare think about dying on me...—"but I mention it because I know how important a role it is. And I only hope I'll do justice by it, like Aunt Finley did."

Her lips pursed as she glanced around out of habit, orange eyes skirting past her leg. It registered, dimly, and she couldn't help the quip that suddenly bounced off her tongue. "This godmother comes with a built-in chew toy." Towhee would've shaken her bum leg, if she were capable. But she couldn't feel it, or move it, which was kind of the point: Niamh's future sprogs could chew on it all they wanted and it wouldn't bother her one bit.