Sun Mote Copse forgetting you in the cabaret

From what she could gather, her gift was either from someone who wanted to remain anonymous, or who hadn’t given Tulimaq their name. Either way, he described the only wolf that could have been Towhee. She nodded when he described her coat, and squinted slightly when he mentioned her “accent” but her eyes themselves narrowed when he concluded that she was slow in the head. Niamh’s ears pricked, offended that he would so blatantly describe someone that way. 

Be nice, Niamh. You’re not a machine, she told herself.

”She’s deaf,” She advised, coldly. Apparently this guy was judgemental and unafraid to say offensive things behind another wolf’s back. ”She’s not slow.” She said quietly, but with a sort of loyal defiance that had a tone to it that might hint that she’d pummel anyone into the ground if they insisted that Towhee wasn’t smart. She took a breath and tried to calm her nerves. ”Did she say anything else?” She asked, curious as to why Towhee chose to send it to her without giving her name. Simply sending a meal didn’t seem like Towhee’s sort of thing.