Firefly Glen change, change will preserve us

The whole muddy sand debacle reminded Toad a lot of the first time she had met Bronco. She recalled how filthy they had gotten, and how awkward it was to slide right into him. Neither of them were particularly graceful animals. As he bumped her, she grinned and leaned into it affectionately.

The white newcomer was gorgeous, though she definitely needed to put some meat on those bones. Toad felt sorry for her even before she demonstrated her cordial mien and described her predicament. Oh, you poor thing, Toad frowned, stepping forward as though the girl was some long lost niece (of which she had many), reaching out to her with her nose to sniff. There was no trace of the fire on her coat, but the coffee-coated woman did notice that Tabriëlle had the scent she associated with prolonged stress.

Bronco echoed his condolences, but quickly moved on to ask what skills she had. Toad gave him a scrunched, disappointed frown. All she wanted to do was feed the damsel, even if she didn't end up staying. Bronco was the boss here, though. She supposed that he was trained to ask these dumb questions. Guardian or not, she hated the idea. Toad thought about wiping any excess mud-sand on Bronco, but decided against it to maintain an image of respect. She looked back to the girl, smiling thinly, tail waving slowly behind her.