Sun Mote Copse haters gonna hate

Whatever reaction he had expected from Towhee, it hadn’t been her loyalty. The golden wolf repressed the instant need to stiffen his body, unused to the camaraderie that she now offered and there was a flashed gaze given her way, his amber eyes alighting with something unreadable, even to him.

She vouched for him, and it never had fully occurred to the molten wolf to join the ranks she had sought refuge in—and so as his eyes swung back to the leader of the pack, Pippin’s posture adjusted submissively, his mind whirling with the sudden pressure of decision weighing upon him.

He had friends here—how stupid would it be to jeopardize that and leave? He had Towhee here.

He only nodded mutely at her explanation of food—they were all hungry. He had no expectations of it being any different in other aspects of the Wilds. A flick of his ear was given when Niamh spoke, vouching for Towhee as she vouched for him, his eyes streaming over the leggy honeyed wolf with a touch of interest. A scar stood out to him, as well as the jut of a tooth. There was a story there, certainly.

Instead, he focused on the silvered woman, his ears flattening to show his flighted decision made—he needed to stay with Towhee and the others. If this she-wolf would let him. “I actually excel at scouting and hunting, so I hope that’s something that can be of use,” he noted, his bright eyes casting a sideways glance to Towhee, pressed warmly to his flank. "I won't be laid up for long." After all, he finally found the energy to seek out the scattered residents of the Grove, hadn't he?