Redhawk Caldera No boys allowed.

Before Towhee even reached her, Fennec must have sensed something. Well, duh, Towhee thought, rolling her eyes at herself. Wonder if it's even stronger for her? And her heat hadn't actually arrived yet. Towhee of yore wouldn't have even noticed the change in her own scent or any of the other signs... but this was her third and most hopeful round, so she was nothing if not hyper aware of the situation.

"It's my heat," she replied baldly to her daughter's question. "It's not quite here yet, but..." But that was perfect. She'd been paying such close attention—well, when she wasn't being sidelined by tragedy—for this very reason. She wanted to pick up and leave at the first sign of its arrival. And that moment was here.

And as that knowledge continued beating her over the head, logic came sailing in to bludgeon her from the other side. "Oh, shitting fuck," Towhee muttered, braking to a slippery stop by the pale Fennec. "I was gonna make a run for Sapphique to find Kaertok," plus bang out any opportunity that arose there and back. Even as she blathered at her daughter, her orange eyes swept over all this fucking snow.

And even without it, was now really the time to bail on everyone? Especially Phox and Niamh, so soon after burying Primrose? That sounded like something Towheat™ might do but she wasn't in the throes of her hormones just yet. She could still make pragmatic decisions before her baser instincts took the wheel. And logic told her that running off to get her jollies was the epitome of bad timing.

But, of course, there was more to it than that. She wanted children and this might be her only chance this season. Towhee stood there stupidly, her mind racing.