Sun Mote Copse Departure to destruction.

She slipped her paw out of the way when Finley moved to sign again, watching avidly as her godmother tried to explain her reasoning. Towhee's head canted as she digested the words. She empathized with the sense of loss and knew that Finley was two or three times her age, so it stood to reason she'd experienced quite a bit more love and loss both. Here before her was evidence that it never became easier. No matter how old you grew, or how big your family became, or how many times you went through it, nobody was safe from the singular hell of losing a loved one.

Towhee swallowed thickly as she saw the tears swimming in her godmother's eyes. She struggled to find words of comfort. Even if Finley had been young and spry still, it didn't mean she could simply go out and locate her wayward children as easily as all that. But pointing that out to her didn't feel like it would be an empathetic thing to say. She imagined it was genuinely challenging to grow older, to suddenly have limitations where you didn't before, and how that kind of thing would certainly weigh into something as life-altering as having more children.

-"I wish I knew something profound and comforting to say,"- Towhee said after a moment, -"but all I can really say is I know where you're coming from, at least somewhat, and for whatever it's worth, I'm here. And if do you decide you're done—and that is a very personal decision that only you can make—you can still pat yourself on the back because you made made some pretty damn fine kids, if I do say so myself. You should be really proud."-