Sun Mote Copse It's called a lance, hello!

Phox nodded along. He wanted to reiterate that no immediate decision needed to be made. They didn't have to go for it right this moment or decide to friend-zone each other forever. But he'd already said as much, and he didn't want to nag her about it. It dawned on him that, if anything did happen, their four kids would be pseudo siblings, just as he had been with Finley and Elwood's lot. That was actually a terribly pleasant idea for him, who had always wanted to raise kids the way he had been raised: surrounded by loving adults and other pups.

But alas, it sounded as though, at least for now, things would remain the same. It felt better having had the conversation, and at least everything was out in the open now. Phox could stop the feeling that he was hiding something from one of his oldest friends. The kids always come first, he said, agreeing with her sentiment. Even if nothing would become of this, he still planned on sitting Fig and Fenn down and explaining that, someday, he would likely find himself with a new lady by his side. For them, he wondered if it would be less jarring, considering they had never known their mother. Would they feel replaced if he had any more children (which he certainly wished to do)? It was a question for another day, and he had plenty of time to outline that conversation before anything happened.

The migraine that had slowly been building was starting to seep in again, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, groaning. I think I've got a headache coming on. They started when I fell down that god forsaken landslide. I'd better get myself to a quiet dark place before it starts up. Hopefully this one won't include vomit. He didn't want to cut the conversation short, but he also knew he'd become rather useless if he stayed out too much longer. Laying down and waiting it out as still as possible was about all he could do once it started.