Blackfeather Woods praying for the faithless

She was larger than him, but maybe that was just her coat that was more dense; either way, she came closer to him and cushioned him with her pelt, shared her warmth as he shared his mess, and soon there was warmth where before there had only been wetness and chill. It was appreciated even if it felt a little awkward; she was like a mother bird trying to hunch over a pathetic, newly-hatched chick. But Mou welcomed the contact, and soon was feeling much better.

There was still the matter of getting out of the mire, of course. Crossing from root-to-root might've worked, but Mou wasn't the most nimble creature and he didn't want to waste the girl's efforts. If he fell in again, she would probably panic again. Or worse, dive in after him and fish him out, ruining her pretty coat. For the time being Mou basked in the attention she gave him and after a few deep breaths, felt quite content where he was roosting.