Sun Mote Copse The end of Troy.

She gave herself a moment (maybe several), then decided that sitting here and wallowing wasn't how she wanted to spend her day. Towhee heaved herself back onto her feet and began padding south along the riverbank, trying to clear her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to move past thoughts of her empty, inhospitable womb. Did she even have a womb? Or had her body traded that for these little testes she neither needed nor wanted?

Now she was working herself toward anger, though all her feelings were put on momentary pause when she came near the farthest southern stretch of borders and saw a stranger there. She hadn't heard his shout, though Towhee stilled, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on him. There was something strangely familiar about him. It took her a few heartbeats to place him as the lurking stranger from the night Wraen had attacked her.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask why he was here, Towhee felt a surge of desire flash through her like a bolt of lightning. It wasn't nearly as powerful as earlier in her heat, though it was that same familiar itch. Unlike before, Towhee did not immediately lose her higher brain function and instead remained rooted to the spot, reigning in the impulse as she continued to peer mutely at the black lurker.