Sun Mote Copse Everybody hates Monday mornings.

not for the first time did arcturus' query go unanswered. the ostregan's forehead creased in confused wrinkles -- he had yet to connect towhee's disability, and so, just assumed she was ignoring his question. maybe on the premise it was stupid, or that she didn't want to talk to him anymore.

he cleared his throat, about to announce aight imma go when meerkat chirruped brightly, prompting his dam to turn her fierce head around and nonverbally ask arcturus what had just had been said. hadn't she heard it? she was closer than him.. still, the puzzle pieces did not click..

"meer." arcturus repeated, feeling so out of place in this moment. he didn't want to stay longer than he was welcome, didn't want to leave in case it came across as rude or antisocial, and frankly, in that moment would have curled up into a little fetal sootball if he was able.