Blackfeather Woods Someday your bird is going to fly.

Maegi was going the opposite direction, doing much the same work as Mou—making this place habitable again. Cursing a little, she forged her way through the brush, ducking and weaving and occasionally stopping to sniff at an interesting plant. What was even more interesting, though, was Mou's scent up ahead, and she followed it with a wagging tail, smiling.

Hey, she greeted, her warm tone reserved for him only coming out. She butted her head against his shoulder, and then pulled back, her nostrils flaring and her voice much different than before. I smell blood. Are you bleeding? She began to cast her gaze over his lanky form, checking for injury.

Gee, thanks Mom. What are you gonna do next, tell him to put on a coat because it's freezing outside?