Hideaway Strath The temperature of the air on the bow of the Kaleetan.

“See? Even you admit we’re friends,” he rumbled, his tail giving an idle flick as he followed her eyes to the fog. He was about to ask her if she had an aversion to the spooky mist, but when she turned back, she surprised him point blank with an interesting question, and he blinked at her for a moment.

‘Siren call?’ He mouthed the words after her, only then realizing she couldn’t hear him and likely thought he spoke that out loud. Amusement traced his eyes, and he recalled that strange wolf he had met at the borders when he first joined—Dingo. The golden wolf seemed to have been quite keen at keeping males away from her—was that a love interest lost?

“Why? Is your milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard?” It was a quip that was spoken almost too quickly as he felt a certain hesitation in responding to her. He didn’t think she was flirting with him, but he could be pretty oblivious—but Towhee had always been easy-going, from the small bit of time he had spent with her. “I just wanted a do over,” he finally admitted.