Sun Mote Copse The end of Troy.

In the blink of an eye, the lurker bolted and Towhee turned to see the cause, orange eyes clapping on a prickly Phox. She gazed at him for a beat, then looked after the retreating stranger, feeling a mild pang of disappointment. The key word was "mild," however, and soon she turned to face her brother again, squaring her stance. She wasn't upset with him for chasing away the potential suitor, nor did she feel any particular danger in being this close to him despite her condition. Her instincts prohibited her from mating with her own blood and, besides, her hormones were losing steam with every passing moment. Possibly, she could ignore it altogether, as long as he could.

"I'll be back to normal soon," Towhee said, "or as close to normal as I ever get, anyhow." She huffed a dry laugh, still eyeballing him speculatively, curious and a little wary about how it all affected him. "I've missed you and the kids these past few days." And just like that, she was reminded of her heartache. She swallowed thickly, realizing she had never told Phox about this. Here was a perfect opportunity, though Towhee didn't want to bring it up totally out of the blue. The subject deserved more respect and tact than that.