Sun Mote Copse Departure to destruction.

Her jaw began to tremble, her teeth officially starting to chatter, just when Finley materialized from the freezing flurries, a touch of warmth urging Towhee forward. She nodded silently and plodded after the Honoree until they were in the shelter of the Blackthorns' den. It wasn't warm in here, per se, but it was certainly warmer than outdoors. Towhee's mouth relaxed as the cold seeped from her bones.

Still feeling a little stiff with it—and now wet with the melting ice formerly clinging to her pelt—Towhee pressed against a wall and sank down with a long-suffering sigh. She then sought her godmother's gaze, reading the troubled expression and sad eyes with a pang of empathy. She reached across the space to offer a consoling nuzzle to Finley's hoary chin.

"Soon as this weather clears up a bit, I'm going to go out and look for her," Towhee murmured after a moment.