Sun Mote Copse Departure to destruction.

Fin could hear her goddaughter following though she didn't spare the girl another glance. She slipped back into the den and resumed her melancholy vigil, dropping her head back into her paws with a huff. She closed her eyes at Towhee's touch and listened to her words. The kindness of the offer warmed her heart a little, but she was not much reassured. In her experience, when a child was lost, they never came back. No amount of searching had ever yielded her a thing.

So, Finley was silent for a few moments as her mind tied itself into knots. A flick of her ear was the only acknowledgement Towhee was given, for when she did part her lips to speak (or lift her paws to sign, I should say), it was to lead the conversation down a rather different path.

-I don't think I'll have anymore kids,- she commented silently. It was something she'd spent a great deal of time thinking about, but hadn't even discussed yet with Elwood. She felt guilty saying it aloud to anyone but him first. Signing wasn't speaking aloud, though, so it worked well enough for her conscience.